Tuesday, August 16
Jim knew I was unusually anxious about flying this time based on few comments that I had made in the previous couple of days and my overall body language and demeanor. Let me stop here to say that I have been blessed beyond words with a devoted husband who continually and lovingly assures this worrisome wife of his that everything will be ok. I have no doubt in my mind that if we were being chased by 5 huge black bears and a pack of wolves, he would still assure me that it was going to be ok, and no doubt he would find a way out of the situation, even if he was clueless at the moment. He took my hand in his and held it tight. From the moment our plane took off the ground, a pit in my stomach told me that something horrible would happen and my eyes flooded with tears. I immediately thought it was hormones because everyone tends to blame things on hormones when you’re pregnant so why not shift the blame myself? It was different. Something wasn’t right. Nightmares flew through my head of my precious husband and baby boys. Would our plane crash leaving our dear boys parentless at the ages of 3 ½ and 2? Would something happen to Jim leaving me pregnant and widowed with 2 children and one on the way? Would something happen to our boys while we were gone and we wouldn’t have the chance to save them, much less say good-bye? I asked God to fill my heart and mind with Him. Immediately, the chorus of Josh groban’s song You Raise Me Up flooded my mind: “You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; You raise me up... To more than I can be” At the moment, God filled my heart and soul with beautiful images of Him holding me in his mighty hand high above the mountains, seas, and fears that lay beneath us. Never did the nightmare cross my mind that so much of my heart belonged to someone I had yet to meet.
Wednesday, August 17
We woke early so we’d be sure to have enough time to eat breakfast and find our way to the Naval Base with time to spare before the Change of command. It was a great honor and privilege to be able to attend the ceremony as well as meet many individuals and families who live and breathe to serve our country. One really neat opportunity we had was to tour the Naval Aircraft CVN-65 US Enterprise. We began the tour and the further I went, the stranger I felt. Something wasn’t right. I stopped for a moment and thought to myself that it would hardly be possible to have contractions at 14 weeks and that once again, it must be those hormones. I proceeded with the tour and what I was questioning as contractions continued. At almost the exact moment it happened, another family member decided to stop and take a break, at none the less the perfect time for me to stop as well. After spending a relaxing couple of hours by the pool with my mother in law, it was once again time to get ready and head to a party. I knew we’d be out late so in an attempt to prepare for the night, we rested some in our room and ate a southern dinner of chicken, corn, mashed potatoes, and salad before leaving. During the party, I felt a headache beginning to form, but in trying to stay positive, I assured myself, it was because I was out way past my usual bedtime and once again, perhaps those hormones.
Thursday, August 18
I woke with bittersweet thoughts Thursday morning. I longed to be home, holding my boys, and back in a routine, sleeping in my own bed. However, I dreaded the plane ride with a mind already filled with horrible “what-ifs”. The excitement, anticipation, and giddiness I use to have when preparing to fly had morphed into dread, fear, and anxiety…once again…perhaps the hormones. But Jim, none the less, being supportive. As we boarded the plane and prepared for take-off I found myself, once again, drowning in tears. Knowing that the God we serve is a loving, comforting, and sovereign God, I began to pray “Lord protect and guide this plane and may your angels carry us home safely to our boys. But above all these things I ask Lord, may your will be done, may you receive Glory, and may it be well in my soul.” The tears still came, but imagining angels guiding our plane through the air gave this Mama the peace I needed to make it home. My headache continued to grow through the plane-ride, but with changing cabin pressure and being tired it was hard to gauge…and once again…there are those hormones.
After landing, we were merely a 1 hr marta ride and 2+ more hour car ride away from our boys, but finally we were on the ground safely. My hopes were that once I had all my boys in the same vehicle I would settle down and begin feeling better. We got the boys, made it home, and the headache continued.
Friday, August 19
On my to-do list for the day I had planned grocery shopping, playing with Logan outside (Parker would be at preschool), strolling in the park with a precious friend, unpacking, laundry, preparing for the week ahead, and perhaps swimming. There was no room left on my list for a migrane. But to my dismay, when I awoke, I swore Jim had clubbed me in the head with a caveman’s bat, after taking my eyeballs out and throwing them against the wall like bouncy balls a couple of times. Surely drinking several glasses of water, Gatorade, and 2 tylenol will help…nothing touched it. So my sweet Logan laid with me on the sofa and watched Toy Story 1, 2, and 3, Scooby Doo Movie, and every episode of Veggie Tales on Netflix available. If you know Logan, you know it was truly an answer to prayer that he laid still long enough to let Mommy be still for so long.
Saturday, August 20
Having a history of becoming dehydrated and losing my appetite during pregnancy, it was the easiest for everyone, including myself, to assume that my headaches were derived from one of the aforementioned. Bless my sweet family and dear friend’s hearts, they just wanted me to feel better and flooded our inboxes with suggestions of what I should try to feel better. Jim gave me a run-down of the list and we tried everything imaginable to ease the pain. I longed for one minute of painless rest. Still half-way thinking my body was just worn-out from the trip, I stayed home with Logan and sent Jim to a birthday party for one of Parker’s friends. With the lights out, laying perfectly still, and cold compresses on my eyes, precious Logan walks over to me, gently pats me on the shoulder and said “Mommy its ok, I love you”, kissed me on the cheek, and snuggled as close to me as he could. “Through the words of children and infants, you have established a stronghold against your enemies to silence the foe and the avenger” Psalm 8:2. Thank you Lord!
Through the evening and night Saturday, my body rested none. The caveman pains deepened behind my eyes and throbbing continued over the front of my head. In addition, through the night, back and leg pains developed. I was hit with deep, dull ache that left me nowhere but curled up in pain. At times the pain seemed to worsen, but never left. I still feel I owe Jim an apology for my ramblings, cries, and attempts during the night to ease the pain. Something in my body was not right, something was wrong. I began to feel a sense of lonliness come over me as if nobody believed me, but rather thought perhaps I was being a hypochondriac or maybe once again I just needed to toughen up and of course there are those hormones. By 2:15 am knowing at this point I would get no rest, I found a spot on the sofa in the den and sat in the quiet, lamp-lit den. Having had several miscarriages myself and experiencing what it feels like “on the other side” not just physically but also emotionally, I find myself consciously concerned with the thoughts and feelings of those around me. Whether I know the person in line next to me at Target or not, you never know what they are experiencing or have just experienced. My heart bleeds for women who long for a child or have lost for a child. And because of this, I have tried to be aware of those around me that I don’t even know are around, as not to rub in their face that I’m expecting, its hard enough as it is and they don’t need me flaunting a “baby on board” tee or rubbing my belly in their face to remind them of their heartache. So for the first time, alone in my den at 2:15 am, I laid my hand on my belly, and Baby Powell and I sat and cried and prayed together. We prayed for my friends whose hearts are aching right now, hearts who are crying out to be rescued and held protected from the agonies and tragedies of this world. We prayed for our family, and we prayed that God would draw Mommy nearer and nearer to the Lord and that in some way, somehow God would receive glory through this pain Mommy cant get to go away. 2:15 in the morning will never be a more cherished time in my heart.
Sunday, August 21
By this point, weary in pain and exhausted was an understatement. My greatest desire at this point was that someone believe me and truly understand how bad I was hurting. I wanted someone, anyone, to understand that something was wrong. Jim continued with our normal schedule to church and Sunday school with the boys, once again still thinking maybe rest and fluids would help me feel better. We debated calling the doctor at this point because if you call over the weekend and its not an emergency they charge you a fee. I understand completely the need for this as to deter calls about minor or non-emergency questions that can wait until business hours. However, when the nurse answered and harshly asked me “are you sure this is an emergency”, I once again started to question myself. At this point I truly began to ask myself if I was crazy. If I truly felt so bad and nobody was believing me, maybe I had gone mad. The doctor called in Immitrex and told me to only take the 2nd Immitrex if the first was not working and to call back if the 2nd pill did not help. After speaking with her, who shall remain nameless, I would not be calling back. We had a Sunday school pool party planned for the afternoon and Jim had mentioned he would go and take the boys, thinking the medicine would make me sleepy anyway. The last thing I wanted to do was inconvienence anyone or bother anyone, but the thought of Jim leaving and me being home alone began to terrify me. I was beginning to feel scared of what the future held. As Jim prepared the swim bag, I looked at him with tear-filled eyes and asked him to please not leave my side. In that moment I told him something was wrong and I didn’t know what it was. I was scared to be alone. The pain continued. Immitrex did nothing.
Monday, August 22
First thing Monday morning I called and easily got an appointment to see my doctor after explaining what had happened over the last couple of days and that I was pregnant. Jim and I were to be in Birmingham at 10:30 for my appointment. About 15 minutes into the trip to Birmingham, my leg and back pains seemed to intensify and remained very strong for 10 minutes. The pain would slightly subside, and within 10 minutes were back again full force. It was at this moment, for the first time that I wondered if they were contractions. Surely not, but thankful I would soon see my doctor. It wasn’t 10 minutes after our arrival that I was called back to the Nurse’s Station for basic check-in info: weight, urine, blood, basic questions, etc. The nurse very kindly asked me if the Immitrex worked the night before and when I told her “no” she followed up with “well why didn’t you call back”. At this point, my tears began and I started to explain to her that the nurse I spoke with made me feel as if my call had not been an emergency and I didn’t want to bother her again. Never did I imagine that SHE would be the very nurse standing in front of me!!! She proceeded telling me I should always call back, blah blah, if I didn’t feel better, blah blah, and she never meant to upset me, blah blah. At this point her apologies were not helping and I just wanted to see my doctor. Jim came back with me and after talking with the doctor, he felt sure the leg and back pains were not related to the headaches. Probably simply pregnancy pains. Baby Powell measured great and had a wonderful heartbeat of 164. He recommended eating a banana a day, drinking lots of water, tonic water and OJ at night, and taking a calcium supplement and perhaps a magnesium supplement. As for the headaches, he was concerned they had progressed so long and not gone away so he referred me to a neurologist for further testing and would see me again in 3 weeks for our ultrasound as previously scheduled. Concerned now that I had something more serious wrong, I called the neurologist as we got to the parking deck and by the divine grace of God, he was able to see me that day! We had about an hour before the appointment so we decided to go to Mama and Daddy’s house so Jim could get some work in. We purchased all the suggested items by my doctor and I took them, ate them, drank them on the way to Mama’s house with hopes of feeling better asap. Upon arrival at Mama’s, I was in great pain once again and could not sit, stand, or lay down. I found myself walking laps in her house wailing trying to get them to understand something was not right. I remember praying and pleading that God would please find someone who could understand and believe me and someone who could help me. As the appointment time approached, the back and leg pains subsided enough to get in the car and make it to the appointment. However, the headache was now throbbing on top of my head as well. After a brief examination, the neurologist concluded that he wanted to follow up with an MRV (similar to an MRI but safer for pregnant women) and an EEG but that he would not be able to get me in until NEXT FRIDAY! In the meantime, he gave me Demerol to take for pain, but mentioned that being pregnant I should only take one every 24 hours if absolute need be. By the time we got home, something had seemed to give me some relief and having not slept in several days, my body was exhausted and I fell asleep, not waking until the morning.
Tuesday, August 23
This being day #7 of something unclear that was going on, I fully hoped to wake feeling refreshed and anew. When I woke with “caveman head” and upper back, lower back, and leg pains, my fear grew. How would I explain to Jim that, yet again, I wasn’t feeling well? I asked God to fill me with his word and he reminded me of Isaiah 41 and his promise to Israel that he will not leave us and that we should fear not. I took my first dose of Demerol which seemed to be great for the first 3 hours. Jim tells me that he walked out, saw me on the couch and said “are you ok, how is the medicine” and I said to him “I good, I’m flying”. Evidently it was helping because either A-Jim is lying through his teeth or B-the medicine really REALLY did work for a short time. About 3 hours into the medicine, it completely wore off and all symptoms came rushing back. I was terrified to take another pill. At this point, my concern for the baby grew, I didn’t want to keep taking any medicine that might harm the baby. When you are pregnant medicines are categorized by letters, A, B, C, D, and X. Each medicine is labeled. A medicines are typically taken no problem during pregnancy (i.e. Tylenol) and X medicines can be lethal. So now that you understand the lettering system, each medicine they had given me, although approved by the doctor, was labeled C. Generally fine to take during pregnancy, but bothered me. One of my doctors sweet nurses is a dear friend of the family for years. She and Mama had been talking on the phone back and forth all day as they were both beginning to get very concerned. Our sweet nurse called my doctor at home, updated him, and he said I should take another Demerol right away and if it didn’t help to come to the Emergency Room. Many tears later when I came to terms with the fact that once again, the medicine was not working, I somewhere found it in me to tell Jim we needed to go to the emergency room. Still filled with doubt, fear, and wonderings if I’m crazy, we made arrangements for the boys and headed to the emergency room at 7:30 pm. The 45 minute drive to St. Vincents was silent until 8:10 pm. Without turning my head and barely speaking above a whisper I said “If anything happens, please tell them I want to hold the baby”. After what felt like an eternity of silence, my precious and selfless husband said, “I promise”.
We were greeted in the ER lobby by a llifelong friend Jim has known from church. Call it coincidence, call it typical, but I call him an angel. We walked in and were in a room within 5 minutes waiting to see the doctor. After several hours of paperwork, blood tests, urine tests, and medicine attempts, I had a fever of 102 and the medicines were not helping with the pain. My neurologist told them he wanted to do a CT scan as soon as possible, and follow up with an MRV, which would be in the morning. Because they didn’t know where my temperature was coming from, they could not release me. I was then admitted to the hospital.
Wednesday, August 24
I remember bits and pieces of Wednesday. Most of the day they were trying different medicines to see if they could get the pain to subside. Most pain meds would begin to work and wear off quickly so they would try another and then another. It’s always frightening when the neurologist looks at you and says “I’m not sure what is going on”. I sent Jim home to shower, get the boys, and bring them to Birmingham so my parents could watch them the next day as it appeared I wasn’t going home soon. We had no answers, the doctors didn’t know what was going on and I felt as though I was trapping Jim and keeping him from working and other things that would be more enjoyable at the time. He needed to get out of the room, he needed to breathe, and he needed to sit in the presence of God, alone. I remember sitting in my room, looking over at my Mama, and just crying out to her saying “something is just not right mama, something is wrong”. My fear for Baby Powell began to grow and I requested they bring a baby Doppler up to let me hear the heartbeat. The least of my worries at this point was that the AC in my room was not working and at points had reached 90 degrees. Needless to say, they moved me to another room that happened to be a suite, which would give Jim more room. Fairly quickly after being moved, an OB nurse came and checked Baby Powell’s heartbeat. It was 168 and sounded great. The last thing I remember from Wednesday night was that they were going to try a new medicine, it was something they give patients who are psychotic, 45 seconds later I was out.
Thursday, August 25
4:00 am on the dot I woke in great pain. My lower abdomen and back were hurting like never before. It did not take me long, I KNEW I was having contractions. I could see Jim had made it back and was sleeping soundly in his bed in the suite area, I didn’t want to bother him, so after having contractions every 3-4 minutes, I called my nurse at 5:00 am. She came in, gave me some more pain medicine to see if that would help and told me to let her know if it didn’t. By 5:30 they were not any better but rather worse, every 3 minutes, lasting 30 seconds each and I called her again. She left my room to call the doctor on call. She said the doctor would be in my room within the hour to check on me, she was already on her way to visit patients in the hospital. At 6:25 she walked in my room. She asked me a few questions and told me she was going to check my cervix and then send me up for an ultrasound just to check on everything. She requested I empty my bladder before my exam. From that moment on, I felt as though I was standing outside my body watching somebody else’s story. I had started bleeding.
The doctor checked me and said everything was where it should be and in good condition but she wanted to speed up the ultrasound and that I’d have that done within the hour. She left to see her other patients and said my doctor would be back after the ultrasound.
At 7:15, Jim and I, alone in my room experienced a delivery no man or woman ever imagines and 7:15 am on thursday, August 25th would mark the date and time our lives were changed forever.
As if I was in another body, standing back, watching it all happen, I remember hearing myself cry out to Jim “the baby, the baby is here, get help”. In the next 10 seconds I had alone with our baby, I learned how much you can love someone you’ve never met and a feeling of wanting to literally give all of myself to save this innocent child. There is much of this day that Jim and I choose to keep sacred between us. But I promise there is no parent that imagines delivering, holding, naming, planning a funeral, and saying goodbye to their child all in the same day. Absolutely, no question about it at all, the most trying day of our entire lives.
Friday, August 26
I don’t remember much about Thursday evening and night, but holding Jim and never wanting to let go. God gave me one of the greatest gifts when he blessed me with a husband who prays with and over our family. A husband whose desire is for my strength, hope, and joy to be found in the Lord rather than in him, all the while being exactly what I have needed him to be today. I have told Jim several times that I don’t want to my days to be filled with sadness and doubt. I so badly want to be happy and full of joy. I want my desires, passions, and interests in life to come flooding back. I want what is good, noble, and just, but right now I find eyes filling with tears each time I turn around or try to speak a word from my mouth. I miss my baby boy Harrison and long to hold him one more time.
Saturday, August 27
My greatest desire for today is that the Lord will fill our hearts, souls, and minds with His word and His promises, not only during the day but also as we rest. I have been struggling with nightmares the last couple of nights, waking in tears. God’s loving arms are so good and He knows just what we need. Growing up in a traditional Methodist church, we sang a lot of hymns growing up, some that still come to mind Standing on the Promises of God: Standing on the promises that cannot fail, When the howling storms of doubt and fear assail, By the living Word of God I shall prevail, Standing on the promises of God.
Sunday, August 28
Jim and I have been overwhelmed by the kind words, texts, emails, messages, cards, and gestures of our loving friends and family. We are blessed beyond words with Christian brothers and sisters who are surrounding us right now. So many of you have expressed your desire to do something, bring something, say something, say anything that will help ease the pain and make it better. Trust me, we all wish a hug, card, or pot roast could fix it all. Please hear us when we say that the greatest thing any friend can do for another is commit to sincerely pray for them. As Jim and I have encountered various struggles individually as well as in our marriage over the past 5 years, God has showed us that the best thing we can do for each other is praying for each other. Not just merely saying it but earnestly lifting each other in prayer. I don’t know why you are reading this story today, whether you are a dear friend of mine or its something you have stumbled upon, but my greatest desire in this day is that you see and grasp the importance of prayer. Pray for your spouse, your future spouse (if not married), your family, your friends, your co-workers, etc.
Monday, August 29
The one place I was not looking forward to seeing again was St. Vincents. I was fearful of emotions and memories flooding my heart and mind…as if they had already left…not sure what I was thinking. Being that my doctor requested to see me so soon, I assumed everyone was informed what had happened and figured once they called me out of the waiting room I could rest in what I would think of as a “safe place”. My thoughts of a safe place were shattered when the nurse walked in and said “ok lets check that little heartbeat”. I’m pretty sure my heartbeat stopped as I mustered up enough strength to say to the new, young, nurse I had never seen before, who didn’t belong to my doctor anyway, “um…you may want to check my file”. She rambled and I finally just requested to see my doctor. Hoping and trying so hard to hold it together, they moved me to another room and I could see the look of sincere apology and mortification as my doctor walked in. He gave me a hug, better than a Santa Claus hug and almost as good as a Daddy hug and said “honey I’m so so sorry”. We proceeded to talk about the typical post-delivery visit; my physical, mental, and emotional state. We also talked about what happened. My doctor assured me over and over again that there is nothing that we did, could have done, or not done to prevent what happened. It was one of those one-in-a-million things that just happens. They are running lots of pathology tests, but all-in-all, to me, nothing will change the fact that it happened.
Tuesday, August 30
While sitting at lunch today, I told Jim that I have this feeling in my heart that I never want to lose. I got about halfway through that first statement and quit talking. When Jim asked me why I told him I just didn’t want to cry anymore and every time I begin to talk, I feel the tears come and I begin to get choked up so I stop myself. He encouraged me to keep on, so through my tears I shared my heart with him. I guess it’s a good thing you cant hear my tears and chokes as I attempt to share with you. Each time I think of Harrison or anything related to the last 2 weeks of my life, I feel my heart swell with great sadness and grief all the while simultaneous hope. It seems there is a harmonious song that is played between heartbreak and hope that comes from none other than our God. For some reason, unknown to me, God has allowed this tragedy and heartbreak into our lives. A reason we don’t know right now, we may not know for a long time, and a reason we may never know at all. But the very same God has drawn us nearer to Him in this time for comfort, peace, and strength than he ever has before. I so badly long to be in a position where I can say “yes, I would go through this again in a heartbeat to be this close to my Lord and Savior” and I KNOW I will be there one day, I’m not yet, but I will be and that is where I want to be!
I have shared with several friends and family members over the last year, the lyrics for Blessings by Laura Story. But it is today, that I bask in the promises and hopes her lyrics offer:
Blessings: Laura Story |
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
| Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching(s) of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise
|
Wednesday, August 31
I wish that all days were good days or better yet even great days, but I’m learning it’s the hard days that sometimes we need the most. I’m not going to lie and I’m not going to beat around the bush…today has been a very hard day. I never knew my body held so many tears. Sometimes I wish that I could cry out of every pore in my body and just get it all out at once. As Jim sat and held me earlier today, he kissed me on my head and asked me what it was that made me cry. If you know Jim, you know he has an innate ability to make the simplest questions be questions that make you “think”. Sometimes I welcome his questions with arms wide open and pop back with an answer, sometimes I respond and tell him that I don’t want my head to start hurting so I’m not going to answer right now, and sometimes it just makes me think and leaves me in silence. There are a million reasons that I find myself overwhelmed with tears, but these are just a few:
1. I miss Harrison
2. I want to hold Harrison in my arms again
3. I want to smell sweet Harrison’s baby smells
4. I don’t understand why we didn’t get to spend longer with Harrison
5. I don’t understand why we didn’t get to see Harrison laugh and coo
6. I don’t understand why Parker and Logan didn’t get to meet their brother
7. I don’t understand why the doctors didn’t know something was wrong
8. I don’t understand why the doctors couldn’t do anything to save him
9. I don’t understand why it takes something this hard for me to turn my face back to the Lord
10. I don’t understand why I have had to be flat on my face to realize nothing matters but God
11. I don’t understand why God would choose to love me
12. I am amazed at what God choose to give up to save the sinners of this world
13. I am amazed at the love God has bestowed on us
14. God promises He works all things for His glory, and I believe him
15. God continues to fill me with the hope I ask for to get through each day
In working with high school students, drama inevitably enters our conversations on a weekly, if not daily basis. You can probably ask any of our students at any given time and they can tell you I’ve told them the “storm story” before. Now is a time that I am telling myself the “storm story”. With storms generally comes great rain, thunder, lightening, hail, wind, and possibly tragic occurrences during the storm (i.e. Katrina, April’s Fury, etc). Storms may last a matter of minutes, hours, or sometimes even days, but our HOPE has to rest in the promise and faith of knowing that after every storm the sun will shine, may take weeks, but it will shine. In explaining this to teenagers, we talk about the drama in life that causes it to seem as if, which at the time truly feels, the world is ending, whether it be a gossip rumor, breakup, or bad hair day, the reason doesn’t matter….it is that person’s storm. While in the storm we have a choice, we have a choice to sulk or we can keep our eyes focused on the hope of seeing the sunlight break through. Right now, in my storm, in my rain, I choose to sing. I choose to sing to our King because my heart is hurting, but my HOPE is in the Lord and the sun will shine!
