Ecclesiastes 11:5

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things" Ecclesiastes 11:5

Today has been particularly difficult. For the first time since we lost Olivia, I truly didn't want to get out of bed. (Thank you to my wonderful husband who allowed me the time I needed to pull myself together) I think it is a combination of not knowing a medical reason "why" and not being able to understand why God would allow this.
Last night we watched the movie, The Help and in this movie there is a little girl who is mistreated by her mother. It made me so sad (even if that is not the focus of the movie, I was dwelling on it) and got me thinking about all the children who are born into families who don't want them or of babies who were "mistakes". Our little girl does not fall under either of these categories, yet we lost her.
In dealing with this loss, I have heard from so many woman (many whom have not shared their stories of losing a child and have kept it secret for many years) all of whom wanted their babies just as much as I do. Some were given medical reasons why and others' like myself have no idea why it happened. I've never been one to really believe or utter the phrase "it's not fair", but in this case I have said it several times and continue to do so today.
I've also been thinking about how I want people in our life to be able to talk about Olivia. She is still part of our family and I am afraid that as time goes on and the pain eases (so i've been told) that she will be forgotten. I don't want her name to be a taboo topic. I guess that leads me to my next thought of how is our extended family coping/grieving? I know that as the parents, Isaac and I are of highest concern to everyone, but I know each of our family members must be grieving just as we are. So, to our family and close friends, please share that with us.

I do have a lot more thoughts than what is written above. Maybe I will get around to sharing more soon, if I am able to organize my thoughts. My mind seems to be running a mile a minute lately.

Matthew 19:14

"Jesus said let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14
Still By Gerrit Hofsink
http://music.yahoo.com/gerrit-hofsink/
On April 7^th  2012 our lives’ changed forever. The night of April 6^th, 2012 I went to bed feeling a little crampy.  I mentioned this to Isaac and we both decided it had to be Braxton hicks which were very normal at this time in pregnancy. So we both went to sleep. I woke at 2:30 am to go to the bathroom and realized I had to lay there and let the pain pass before getting up. When I went to the bathroom I noticed a discharge. It was this along with frequent contractions that made me call my OB’s office. While waiting for the doctor to call back, I woke Isaac to let him know what was going on. Of course the doctor said I needed to come to the hospital to be seen. Prior to waking Isaac I remember thinking “well I’ll just go to be monitored then they’ll send me home a few hours later” this was what I was thinking in preparation to tell Isaac to stay home with Cole.  However I knew he would never agree to this, so I called my mom to come over. When she arrived at our house she said “ it’s too soon for her to come”, and I think I must have agreed because, I was, in fact getting some peaches ready for Cole to have for breakfast as he was constipated the night before.

Isaac and I went on our way to the hospital, him asking if he needed to drive more quickly. Looking back, I don’t think either one of us knew what exactly to expect. We parked and walked up to the labor and delivery floor, checked in and waited for the nurse Maureen to come and get us. After changing into a hospital gown and providing a urine sample she began using the Doppler to locate Olivia’s heartbeat, which then turned into use of the ancient ultrasound machine (same one they used for Cole the previous  March). First a resident attempted the ultrasound, but because of the odd position Olivia was in, she said she was going to have the attending, Dr. Surrette check due to the age of the ultrasound machine and her “inexperience”. Dr. Surrette came in and was also having difficulty; he was then called to a c-section. The nurse continued searching, my heartbeat was racing, and at one point she got about a 6bpm discrepancy between the Doppler and ultrasound. All of us were optimistic that she had found Olivia’s heartbeat. Isaac and I convinced her I needed to get up and have some juice to try and get her to move to a different position in my womb.  Dr. Surrette returned, attempted the ultrasound again, and then said he was going to have the perinatologist come look also. She came shortly after and nodded to Dr. Surrette, who then turned to us and told us Olivia had no heartbeat. It was with that nod, that I knew what he was about to tell us, yet I couldn’t believe it. I was filled with shock and desperation. I couldn’t understand how this could be happening and immediately the thoughts of having to deliver my little girl, lifeless, ran through my mind. Before this even came up, I asked for a c-section, which to me seemed like the quickest, most emotionless way (for me under these circumstances) to go through this. I was told that was not an option. From this moment on I felt like I was in a dream. We were brought to a room, given a few minutes alone, before the doctor came back in to give us our options of either let the labor happen naturally or to help induce it along. We decided I should be induced since labor had already begun.

 Phone calls were made to family, all the while really not believing what was going on. Blood was drawn, IV inserted, labor induced. I had decided I would not accept pain medication/intervention, that I wanted to suffer through this labor and delivery for the little girl I lost growing inside of me. Our pastor came to pray with us and later that morning my mom came to be with us through the day.

 As the day went on, and labor pain intensified I found myself getting angry that I was lying in this hospital bed and that what should be a wonderful day was not going to end in the way it should.  Breathing through the contractions was no longer working for me due to my emotions. My nurse Lynn finally convinced me to get the epidural. Having had an unsuccessful epidural with Cole, the anesthesiologist was careful to explain that it didn’t mean it would happen again. The epidural worked and I was physically comfortable. However, my thoughts and emotions were not allowing any actual “rest”. Throughout the day, Isaac and I kept talking about Cole, trying to find some comfort in picturing his smile and his crazy laugh. I  felt I needed to know how my little boy was doing at home and sought updates from family who was with him.

At some point the epidural began to wear off, and the nurse had the anesthesiologist come back to adjust the medication. Very soon after he had done this, I was ready to deliver. There was a burst  of fluid which sounded like a bottle popping.  My nurse was not in the room, I remember looking at my mom and asking “that wasn’t the baby was it?” The nurse got back to the room quickly, got the resident and Dr. Illanes to the room and told me that her head was crowning. They were unsure if I was going to be able to push as my epidural had just been adjusted and I couldn’t feel much. I was feeling a slight pressure but absolutely no pain. I know deep down, Isaac and I both had a small inkling of hope that she was going to come out crying, our own little miracle.

 It was a blessing that I was able to deliver her in silence. During the day I had been thinking I wanted this to be a peaceful delivery.  Our little angel was delivered at 8:14pm 18.5” and 4lbs 10oz, absolutely beautiful and perfect, but with no beating heart. I will never forget Dr. Illanes’ face as he looked up at me and said “she’s perfect”, his demeanor and tone of voice just portrayed how he couldn’t understand or explain such a devastating occurrence. There was absolutely nothing apparent to him that could have caused this. It was after the delivery of the placenta that I got scared. I had a large loss of fluid and remember saying “I’m not hemorrhaging am I?” I was told no, but just like with Cole, they calmly turned the Pitocin up to help quickly contract my uterus.

I was given the choice if I wanted to hold Olivia, after having been prepared through the day by my nurses that it was totally up to me. I was told that some women just want the baby taken from the room immediately. I chose to hold her, and I didn’t want to put her down. I felt like it was my obligation to hold and love her while I had the chance. It was a horrible feeling; after all, shouldn’t a parent be excited to hold their child?  Looking down at her, she looked just like a sleeping baby, so peaceful and relaxed. She was beautiful and it was in those moments that I prayed for her to wake up. Isaac took her, holding her he sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. My heart ached so badly, feeling so sad that maybe something I did caused this and now this was his only chance to hold and rock our baby Olivia. My parents both held her. The nurse cleaned and dressed her, swaddling her in blankets. We had family visit, some wanting to hold her and other’s just looking. It was such a strange family gathering, at this point I was feeling like I was in a dream again.

Later that night when family left, Isaac and I were yet again given the choice of whether or not we wanted to keep Olivia in the room with us. We of course wanted to keep her, at this point for me I was feeling obligated again to spend as much time with her as possible. I remember putting her down to use the bathroom, and when I came back to pick her up, she just felt so cold. I mentioned this to my nurse when she came back, and she just so sweetly said “let me get some warm blankets for her”. She left and returned with blankets to swaddle her with. She even offered to change her outfit as her original outfit got soiled with some discharge from her nose and ears.

The night dragged like no other. We held our daughter, and tried to sleep some. Sleep was not coming very easily for me. At midnight, Easter Sunday I thought to myself my daughter is alive in Heaven with Jesus. Then as quickly as that thought came, I was overwhelmed with wanting her to be alive here in my arms. I lay in bed, holding Olivia and watching Isaac asleep in the chair wishing I was going to wake up from this most horrible dream. Around 4am, I decided (and it was me deciding because Isaac wanted to do whatever I said I wanted) that we needed to let the nurse know that we wanted to leave by late morning. I knew I needed to say something then as I know hospital paperwork could really hold us up from discharge. I realized I couldn’t bear to stay there with Olivia the entire day. A formaldehyde type smell was starting to permeate the room and I anticipated changes in her appearance the longer we stayed. I wanted to remember her as the beautiful baby girl she was. I also had a desire to be home with my little Cole, who I knew would remind me of life and happiness. Besides, the thought of having to leave her for good was so awful and lingering that I just felt we needed to get it over with.

The nurse we had for the few hours before we left the hospital on Sunday morning was also a mother of a stillborn child, as was the nurse Maureen. She was able to get us discharged by 10 am. Prior to leaving I had a burning desire to not leave Olivia, ever. I was scared to leave her alone. So I asked what would happen to her when we left. The nurse, Anne said “I call my special friend and she comes to be with her”. In a matter of about 2 minutes a woman appeared in the room, picked up Olivia and sat in the chair holding her. I’m not sure how long she stayed to hold Olivia, but as the mom of this baby, I was comforted to know I wasn’t leaving her in a room alone.

Anne walked us out to our car, reminding us of the support and resources that are offered through the hospital. Isaac and I got into the car, feeling completely empty. We drove home, I think mostly in silence. Once in our yard we both cried. Family was at our house to greet us, Cole was napping. When Cole woke up, Isaac and I went in to get him. He immediately said “hi” in his happy voice, but then wasn’t sure he wanted us to pick him up. We scooped him up, trying hard to just love and enjoy him. I know I was feeling a missing piece.

Over the next week we did our best to keep family and friends near and surround ourselves’ with people. Decisions about a service for Olivia began, which was overwhelming to us being a young couple and totally not prepared for what we were facing. We became much closer as a couple, needing each other just to get through minute to minute. This was the only thing that felt good during this time.

God provided us with so much; family and friends who loved on us, prayed with and for us, church family and friends who cooked meals for us, financial help and the list goes on. I began my list for thank you’s and realized I was dreading writing them as I was not thankful for having to “thank” anyone for helping us through such a life experience.  

Friday, April 13, 2012 came, the day we had to bury our little angel. It was the worst day of my life aside from the day I had to deliver our lifeless angel. Sitting at the cemetery, while the song As I Lay Me Down to Sleep played, (which is a song of a child to her parents) played, I remember a gentle breeze blowing and I imagined that was Olivia letting us know she was right there, looking over us. We left the cemetery and went to our church for a reception. I felt like I was just going through the motions, because all I wanted was to be at home, not dealing with any more people asking me “how are you doing?” However, it was a nice reception, as nice as it could be under the circumstances.

We went home, and had family come too. We both felt like we needed people around to help us get through the rest of the day.

On Saturday Isaac and I bought a weeping cherry blossom tree and planted it in our yard with the help of our dads. This was to be in remembrance of Olivia. We spent a long time outside that day, trying to enjoy the nice weather. I know I was trying to find peace that Olivia was with us out there in the yard too. We had a little white butterfly that would come and go in the yard and it made me think of her. I guess all those little things will continue to make me think of her.

Since then Isaac has returned to work and the company has slowed down a lot. Cole is getting back into his usual routine although I know he senses something different. He has seen his mama and dada acting weird and crying at times. He is such a sweet boy and will stop whatever he is doing and come sit or climb on me and try to kiss me when he sees me cry.

 It is during the quiet times that I get overwhelmed with sadness and feelings of emptiness take over.  We have printed every picture we will ever have of our daughter. We have a nice memory box that was given to us from our dear friends, which we have filled with any memorabilia we have of Olivia. I also have Olivia’s blanket that she was first wrapped in, which has to fill my empty arms when I wake up in the night. It is at night that I am so aware of not having her to be comforting or feeding and I think of those precious hours I had to hold her in the hospital.

At some moments during the days over the 2 weeks following Olivia’s birth, Cole did not have the same importance to me as he always has. This feeling has worn away thankfully and now I feel as though I want to keep him in a bubble and protect him from anything and everything. I hope this will soon wear off too because I know it’s not practical or healthy for him. Now I look at him and feel sorry that he does not have his sister and feel a strong desire to give him a sibling.  Although I know we need time to grieve the loss of Olivia, the empty arms feeling leaves me desiring another baby. It is not a matter of replacing Olivia; it is just a desire of my heart to have a baby of our own in my arms.

Other times I am feeling angry that this happened, although I don’t know who I’m angry with because I truly am not angry with God. I realize this is who many people would blame along with doctor's.

 I also feel guilty at some point of everyday so far, feelings that I should have known something was wrong or if only I had been more aware  or if only I had insisted on an ultrasound at the last appointment I had when the doctor told me it seemed my belly was measuring large. Would they have picked up on anything? Or why didn’t I just call the doctor that Friday night instead of assuming what I was feeling was normal?  One of the first things I was told was not to blame myself, that these things happen so quickly and that even if I had been put on the monitor on Friday night she may have been just fine, with a strong heartbeat. Again, I hope these feelings pass because it is such a horrible feeling.

And now, here I sit, writing this so that I will never forget the pain of losing a child, a pain I never imagined Isaac and I would have to experience. I will forever wonder about my Olivia and what she is doing up in Heaven. I imagine that someday Cole will talk about her and tell us stories of her as his imaginary friend. Ultimately I just look forward to the day that we meet her in Heaven and can never be separated again.

We may never know why she was taken from us so soon, as any blood work results and the pathology report of the placenta have come back “normal”. Hearing this has been unsettling.  We had originally felt that having an answer was not going to matter. We believed that the reason for our loss was due to a placenta abruption. Now with no answer I feel so strongly that I do need an answer. Just as I will have to wait to see my daughter, I will have to wait until I see my Savior for this answer. Until then I will seek comfort and peace that Olivia Taylor Bardsley is in the arms of Jesus and receiving the best care imaginable and that I am the mother of an angel.