Remembering Bristol

I don't think I've mentioned this anywhere on here yet, but not too long after losing our precious baby Seven, Chris and I decided to give her a name. Giving the baby a proper name is something we didn't do for a long time (like over a year) after losing B3, and we both regretted that. Even after giving him a name, we still always call him "B3" because that's what we called him for so long. 

As part of the grieving process, we both felt the need to honor baby Seven by naming her, and we both wanted something to call her. I know that I always referred to her as "Seven" on here, but that wasn't something we really ever called her in real life. We would generally say "the new baby" or "this baby" when planning for her or dreaming about her, so we both had a deep desire for something more proper to call her. 

Chris brought the subject of naming her up to me just a few days after we found out she had died. We decided on her name almost immediately. In fact, we didn't even discuss any other name aside from the one we gave her. Her name is one that we had just started talking about around a week before her heart stopped beating. Chris liked it for a boy name, and I liked it for a girl name. And, we both feel like it is the perfect name for our baby. 

The name we gave our sweet baby is Bristol. 

Also, - and I mentioned this in the post where I recorded the story of losing Bristol (click here if you want to read it) - we did not find out for sure (through a blood test or otherwise) if the baby was a boy or a girl. However, in my mind and heart, the baby was a girl. I always think of her and refer to her as a girl, and Chris feels the same way I do.

So, Bristol's due date was November 19th. My birthday is November 17th, and I was born on my dad's birthday. We were all hoping that Bristol would be born on November 17th and be the third generation with that birthday, and losing that possibility alone was the source of some sadness. A lost baby's due date can be a big trigger of grief and sorrow, but we knew as her due date approached that we wanted a way to honor and remember her little life. 

To do this, we decided to spend Saturday, November 18th as a family doing a few special things in memory of Bristol. I wanted the children to be involved in the activities because they love her, miss her, and grieve for her, too. I think Chris and I were both nervous about the emotions the weekend would hold, but we were also looking forward to the opportunity to have time designated for remembering her. 

We started the day off by looking through the Hope Box we received not long after Bristol passed. This box holds several items that were given to us in memory of Bristol, and has her name printed out on the box as well as on some of the items. Seeing her name in print soothes my broken heart just a bit. What parent doesn't love seeing their child's name in print? 

The box includes this little lamb that the children loved holding and kissing. 

It also contained this beautiful Christmas ornament that I love because it says her name. 

The children seemed to really cherish looking through the box and talking about Bristol. Brianna did get emotional during this time, but we expected that she would. All the children became very sober as we talked about Bristol, but we felt like it was important for them to work through some of their emotions about losing their sibling. 

After looking through the Hope Box, we got in the van to go to a nearby town to do a few other things. On the way there, Brianna and Brenson both colored a picture for Bristol. On the back of his picture, Brenson wrote this:

Although I already knew it was true, seeing it in writing was so comforting to me. 

The first stop we made was at Hallmark to find a Willow Tree figurine to display in our house. We have one of these that was given to us on B3's due date, and it's very meaningful to me because I always think of him when I see it. There were many little figurines to choose from, but we all agreed on this one. The little tag says Lots of Love - ever close to my heart. 

Our final activity involved picking out a bush to plant in our yard in Bristol's memory. I really wanted a Crepe Myrtle that would bloom every summer, so we visited a local nursery to find just the right one. Chris, Brianna, and Brenson actually picked out the one we brought home because I stayed in the van with the twins. It was very cold and windy this day, the twins both had a cough, and I was battling what I later found out was bronchitis. When Chris brought the "bush" to the van, I had to laugh. It was actually a tree that's close to seven feet tall! It was quite a fiasco putting the thing in our van because it reached from the windshield all the way to the back window. Everyone rode home getting poked by the branches and it was quite ridiculous! But, bringing it home is a sweet and funny memory that we all like to laugh about.

As soon as we got home, Chris planted the tree in our yard. I can't wait to see it bloom (the blooms are supposed to be white) and flower next summer! I'd eventually like to get a little something that says Bristol's name to put by its trunk, but I'm not yet sure what.

As Chris and I were pulling the tree out of the van, we noticed that Brianna had written Bristol's name on it as we were riding home. It made us smile.

If everything had gone according to our plan and our heart's desire, we would have been welcoming a baby into our arms that weekend instead of searching for ways to honor our baby's memory. But, that's not how life goes sometimes. Sometimes, we have to bear unthinkable pain. Sometimes, we have to walk through a real-life nightmare. And sometimes, we have to do things that seem impossible.

There were times when I didn't know how I'd make it through Bristol's due date. The love I have for her is greater than words can express, and the pain of living without her is raw and ugly and real. I prayed often for strength and peace as we approached her due date, and I prayed that my heart would be soothed and comforted by her memory and by hope in greater things. I know there are many others who have lifted us up in prayer during this journey, as well. I am grateful beyond words that by the grace of our God we had a beautiful, peaceful day honoring her memory and her precious little life.

Losing Seven, Part 2

If you missed the first part of this story, you can click here to get all caught up. 

I left off the other post right after finding out on Wednesday, May 31st that our precious baby Seven no longer had a beating heart. My D&C was scheduled for Friday, June 2nd at 8:00am, leaving us with Thursday, June 1st to spend waiting for Friday. 

What do you do with yourself for a whole day knowing that your baby is no longer alive? Aside from being completely heartbroken and overwhelmed with grief, I was also terrified that the miscarriage would begin before my D&C. I decided to spend the day in bed wallowing and praying, and that's pretty much what I did. I was incredibly thankful that Chris had taken off work and that my parents were here to care for the children. I was certainly not mentally up for caring for anyone. 

Chris, my parents, my sister, her daughter, and all my children took an outing to our local library that morning to sign up for the summer reading program, then went out for lunch. This left me at the house by myself for a good span of time, which is what I really needed. I needed time with my grief, time with my pain, and time with my thoughts to process. After they all got home, the children went down for a nap. Later that evening, my friend Tia brought us food for dinner and visited for a while. I spent the entire day just taking it easy, crying as I needed, being alone as I needed, and praying. 

That evening, before the big kids went to bed, I went in Brianna's room and talked with her about me going to the hospital the next day. I made sure she knew what was going to happen, and asked her if she wanted to say good-bye to the baby since I would be gone before she got up the next morning. Brianna had talked to the baby and kissed my belly every single day since we told her I was pregnant, so I felt it was very important to give her the opportunity to say good-bye. I don't regret that decision, but I will say it was one of the most difficult things I've ever been through. Brianna just cried and sobbed and bawled and said how much she didn't want the baby to die. She was SO upset, and we just laid in her bed sobbing together. She loved our baby so, so much, and watching her grieve absolutely shattered my heart. She kept saying, "Don't go. I don't want you to go tomorrow. Just don't go" and I had to explain to her why I had to go. I had to remind her over and over that the baby was already gone. It was excruciating. 

After spending about 45 minutes with Brianna, I went to Brenson to give him a chance to say good-bye. He was less emotional about the whole thing than Brianna had been, but he also cried and snuggled in close to me and didn't want to let go. He kept asking me why the baby died, and of course I didn't have an answer for that. He also asked me, "Mom, did you take your shot yesterday?" and said, "I prayed and prayed that our baby wouldn't die." He just couldn't understand why our baby died when we had done everything "right". Trying to help my child process something that I myself couldn't even process at that time was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Truly. I've never been so heartbroken in my life as I was that night holding my children as they sobbed over the death of their sibling. 

In the 36 hours since I had seen our lifeless, still baby on the ultrasound screen, I had prayed and prayed that I wouldn't begin the miscarriage on my own at home. I had seen that bit of brown mucous then blood on Wednesday, but there hadn't been anything like that since. And while I was grateful for that, it did funny things to my mind. I found myself questioning what I saw on the ultrasound. Was I sure the baby was dead? Was I sure there was no heartbeat? Was the baby really only measuring 13w6d? What if we just missed something? I knew these thoughts weren't rational, but I struggled with them anyway. The mind is powerful, and the doubt was definitely there. However, when I got up on Friday morning and used the restroom, there was quite a bit of blood. I was actually thankful for it because it helped ease my mind that what I saw in that ultrasound room was real. The baby really was gone. My body was preparing to expel the baby's tissue, and I needed to go in for this procedure. 

Friday morning, Chris and I left the house at around 6:00am for the hospital. When we arrived at the hospital, my friends Kendall and Angie were there waiting for us. They hugged me, prayed with me in the parking lot, then came inside to wait with us before I was called back to be prepped. Like I mentioned in my last post, it's an incredible thing to have friends and family who are there without being asked. They just came and stood by me and prayed for me and sat with us, helping give us strength for this journey. 

I was taken back to a room around 7:30am where a nurse got my IV started. As soon as she did, I told her my hand hurt. The pain rapidly increased, and the nurse realized my IV had blown out. She quickly pulled it out and started a new one. I hate having an IV put in . . . it's the worst for me, so I was really upset it had to be done twice. Then, the anesthesiologist walked in the room and said, "So we're going to make sure there's no more babies, huh?" I looked up at him, startled, and said, "No, this is a D&C." He quickly looked at his paperwork and began falling all over himself apologizing to me. He got confused and thought I was in to have my tubes tied. He was very sincere in his apologies - and I was grateful that he apologized - but he kept going on and on and on about how sorry he was. I really just wanted him to stop talking about it and get out of my room! He actually made it more awkward by going on and on about it. 

Next, Dr. N came in for just a few minutes. I asked him about doing genetic testing on the baby's tissue, and he said he really didn't see any reason to do that. He felt like the baby had a defect not compatible with life and there's nothing more we really need to know. I also asked him about finding out the baby's gender. He said that I could pay for a blood test, but did I really want to pay thousands of dollars just to know? Chris and I ultimately decided that we didn't, but I'm not sure we don't regret that. 

When I had my D&C with B3, I wasn't very emotional. I had cried my buckets of tears in the eight days leading up to it, and I knew the baby's body had already been expelled from my body. This time, though? I was a mess. The tears just flowed and flowed, and I was powerless to stop them. As the nurses wheeled me away for surgery, my tears just soaked my gown and the sheets. The thought of having my baby removed from my body was just horrific, even though I knew she was no longer living. It was so final. It was truly the end of this journey. And I hated the thought of it. 

The D&C went smoothly, and we were back home by about noon. I spent most of the afternoon in bed, and later that evening made a social media announcement. 

"I am truly at a loss for the right words in this moment as my heart is overwhelmed. We learned this week that our precious gift - our unborn baby we love so much - has passed away just shy of 16 weeks gestation. We are all devastated, and there are many things about this that we just can't understand. However, we do know that we have a good, faithful Father who loves us the same as He did yesterday and as He will tomorrow. We know He will carry us as we attempt to navigate the waters of loss and grief. We know that without Him, this would be impossible. We praise Him as the giver of life and healing and peace."

Why are things like this so very difficult to put into words? Once again, we were shown an incredible outpouring of support, but it hurt so badly to post that. 

That evening, my sister and her family came over to eat with us and just spend time with us. It felt good to be surrounded by loved ones. 

Physically, I was feeling fine. I had some bloating from the surgery, but it was all gone by Saturday morning. Of course, that was its own difficult hurdle. With all the bloat gone, my belly looked so small compared to how it had looked before the D&C. It was a horrible realization when I looked in the mirror and saw how loose my shirt was around my belly. It was yet another stark reminder that our baby was gone. 

That Sunday, Brenson ended up being sick, so I stayed home from church with him. I was honestly relieved to not have to face anyone yet. I felt like I just wanted to stay in my bed and under my covers forever at this point. Even the next day when the kids had a chiropractor appointment, I couldn't go in with them so Chris took them by himself. I just wasn't ready to face the world. Later that day, my friend Joy Lin came to sit with me and cry with me. Thankfully, Chris took both Monday and Tuesday off work to stay home and manage everything. 

My hand ended up bruising pretty badly from the IV mishap. I hated seeing at that stupid bruise.

The mail ended up being a huge trigger for me after my D&C. On Saturday, I received a package in the mail full of maternity clothes I had ordered about a week before. Also Saturday, I received my 16 week Bump Update in my email. On Monday, our insurance sent us a packet on their maternity program. I was constantly feeling these terrible heart pangs and being reduced to tears.

However, we also received some beautiful cards expressing condolences to us, and our friends had a Hannah's Hope box sent to us filled with a few things to help us remember and grieve baby Seven. I knew what was in the box when we received it, so it took me almost a week to be in a place where I could open it (and in the meantime, one of the children sat on the box and crushed it a little). Seeing the contents of that box was yet another heart-wrenching thing, but I know I'll cherish it always.

On Wednesday, exactly a week after finding out Seven no longer had a heartbeat, my friends Angie and Amy came by to visit. They packed up my maternity clothes for me so I wouldn't have to deal with it, and hauled away some baby things our friend, Kendall, had given me. I know I've already said this, but I was so, so, so grateful for all the support I was given.

I continued to lay low the entire week after the D&C, but by the next Sunday (June 11th), I knew I needed to get out and starting facing the world again. I needed to go to worship to start healing my shattered heart. I needed to hug my church family, and sit in a pew with my babies. It was the first time I had fixed my hair, worn real clothes, and put on make-up since we lost the baby.

I knew I had one more major hurdle I needed to get through before I could even begin the process of moving forward, and that was my D&C follow-up appointment with Dr. N. I dreaded walking back into his office, but I knew it was just something I had to get through. My appointment was on Tuesday, June 13th. I wanted to have Chris and the children with me for comfort, so we all went and made an outing out of it. It was kind of strange because I was taken to this room I had never been in before. It looked like an office, complete with a desk, comfy chair, and couch.

Dr. N came in, calmer than his usual self. He asked how I was feeling, then clarified that he was really concerned about "my head". I gave him a partial smile and said, "I'm going to be okay." We chatted just a bit more, then left his office for possibly the last time. It was hard. It was hard to walk in, and it was hard to walk out.

Just a few days after this appointment, I came across these shirts as I was unpacking the next size up in clothes for Brooke and Brecklyn.

Who knew that seeing something as simple as a shirt could cause one to feel like they're drowning in a sea of pain? Why we had to go through this again is something I will never understand. It's such an indescribable, excruciating pain that will never fully go away. However, I do know that these types of trials can draw us closer to the One who loves us more than we could ever imagine or comprehend, and I pray that this journey is doing just that.

There's no possible way for us to know what the future holds for our family. I mean, we never would have EVER thought we would be where we are right now after years and years of infertility, a surprise pregnancy, and a second trimester loss. But here we are. At this point, we're just trying to keep our focus on Jesus, loving each other, and allowing the waves of pain and grief come and go as needed.

Thank you to everyone who has loved and supported our family during this time of loss and grief.

Losing Seven, Part 1

It has taken me a little while to be ready to tell this story, but I think the time has come for me to share. Admittedly, there is a big part of me that never wants to write these words or record what took place during those life-changing and shattering days. It is a heart-crushing experience that I'm certain I will never fully "get over". That's not to say that I haven't been able to begin moving forward or that I haven't found joy again, but going through what we did is something that changes you forever. I am forever impacted by the life and death of our precious baby Seven, and it is for that reason that I want to have record of the details surrounding our baby's death.

One question that I've been asked a few times is, "Were there any signs that you had lost the baby?" The answer to that question is a little more complicated than a simple "yes" or "no". Looking back, there were a few things that happened that could have been signs, but it just wasn't that straightforward. Many of the things I experienced could have easily been explained by the fact that I had completed my first trimester of pregnancy and was well into the second trimester. My symptoms and the way I feel always changes pretty drastically for me around the time I hit 15 weeks pregnant. 

During my 14th week of pregnancy, I was still experiencing some strong symptoms of nausea, fatigue, and headaches. I had also started feeling those first few little flutters of the baby moving. This happened mainly in the mornings when I was laying in bed on my back waiting to get my blood-thinning injection (that I take during pregnancy due to a blood-clotting disorder). I had felt those little flutters consistently throughout week 14, but Saturday, May 27th (14w6d) is the last time I can remember feeling them. 

I had also had a severe head ache on Saturday, May 27th that lingered a bit into Sunday, May 28th. I turned 15 weeks on Sunday, and really noticed a difference in how I was feeling on Monday, May 29th. I was less fatigued and my food aversions had eased up significantly. Also - like I mentioned already - I realized that I hadn't felt those baby flutters in about two days. I know this seems like it should have alarmed me - and it certainly did to a degree - but I was trying to be rational and not worry too much over little things. Having experienced loss before, I had to work diligently at not allowing anxiety over every little thing to creep in. Fifteen weeks is around the time that my symptoms typically ease up a lot. I usually start getting my energy back around this time, and feeling those little baby flutters can be very sporadic at this stage of pregnancy, as well.

Another thing I'd like to mention here is that I hadn't really noticed much bump growth yet. I even mentioned in my 15 week pregnancy update on here that there hadn't been much change in the bump. This was completely normal for me . . . I don't start showing or really gaining any weight with my pregnancies until around 16 weeks (even with the twins). So again, I was trying diligently to not read too much into what I was or was not experiencing. All of these things could have been completely normal for me.

My 15 week belly shot

On Tuesday, May 30th, I loaded up my kids and spent the day with them at the zoo. It wasn't too hot, but I was careful to stay hydrated.

I felt great all day, and had high hopes that I had finally reached the second trimester bliss where I had a little energy and felt more like myself.

Later that afternoon, Chris and I took all the kids and went to the splash pad for a little bit. It was the first time in two months that I had been able to be that active all day without feeling like I was going to pass out from exhaustion. I even posted about my energy surge on my Instagram because I truly thought it was just because I was getting farther along in my pregnancy.

While at the splash pad, I started to feel off. It's hard to put my finger on exactly what it was except that I had a strong cramp on my upper left side (at the bottom of my ribs) and my tummy was upset. I told Chris that I suddenly wasn't feeling good, and we decided that I had just overdone it that day. I felt bad enough that I didn't even want to go get dinner like we had planned, so we just went through a drive-thru for the kids. I did down a bottle of water hoping that would help the situation, but it didn't. As soon as we got home, I laid on the couch, drank lots of water, and didn't do much until we went to bed. The cramping did not concern me because it was high and not low where my uterus was, and by the time we went to bed I was feeling much better.

On Wednesday, May 31st, I started my day the same way I had for the past nine weeks . . . with my blood thinning injection. This was the injection that was supposed to help prevent miscarriage, and it gave me peace of mind in many ways. My habit was to ice the injection site for a few minutes before doing the injection, and I would spend those few minutes praying for our baby. I was extremely careful to do the injection around the same time every day and to never miss a dose. I had filled my prescription for the injections just about a week before this, and had sent this photo to Chris expressing how very thankful I was for our insurance!

Chris went to work as usual that morning, and I got all the kids up and ready to go to the library for story time. I wore a pair of maternity pants I had just purchased the weekend prior to this, hoping that I looked pregnant enough for people to be able to tell I was expecting and not just gaining weight. I was feeling fine.

We spent over an hour at the library, and part of that time was used sitting on the floor of the children's area visiting with other moms while our kids played. I had planned for us to leave around 11:00am, and just before that I time I started to feel "off" again. I got us all home and started making lunch all while feeling progressively worse and worse. The cramping was back (but again, it was high like under my ribs and not down where my uterus is), and my stomach was very upset. While the children were eating lunch, I drank several glasses of water and had to use the bathroom a couple times because of my tummy. Brianna knew that I wasn't feeling well, so she really stepped up at this time and helped everyone finish lunch and go down for nap. Then, she went to her room for some quiet time. I welcomed the opportunity to lay on the couch and rest a bit.

Just a few minutes after everyone went down for nap, I used the bathroom again. When I wiped, I noticed that there was some brown tinted mucous on the toilet paper. The second I saw it, my heart clenched. I never had that sort of discharge during my healthy pregnancies, and I was alarmed, for sure. My mind began racing with all kinds of thoughts, but I tried hard to not overreact. I told myself there was no reason to think anything was wrong. The discharge was very little, and it wasn't blood. I did have cramps, but they weren't in my uterus. I was over 15 weeks along, and we had heard our baby's heartbeat three times. I was taking my folate and blood thinning injections exactly like I had been instructed.

So, I just went back to the living room and laid back down on the couch. I was still truly thinking I had just overdone it the day before and was now paying for it. I felt tired, but I couldn't relax enough to actually rest. About 15 minutes later (around 1:00pm), I went to use the restroom again (remember, I had been drinking lots of water). This time, there was a tiny bit of bright red blood. When I saw it, I immediately started shaking. My heart was beating out of my chest, and the tears started flowing involuntarily. I remember standing in my bathroom and saying, "Please, God. Please don't let me lose this baby. I can't do this again. Please, God. Please protect my baby. Please let us keep her. Please, God."

I took several deep breaths, then went outside on our back patio to clear my head. Blood doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong. I didn't want to freak out over nothing, but I was terrified. I wasn't sure what to do. Should I call Chris? Did I need to make an appointment with my doctor? Was I getting worked up over nothing or was I losing our baby? My head was spinning, so I just sat out there crying and praying. I prayed for peace, for wisdom, for clarity, for strength to walk through whatever was happening. I prayed that God would sustain me if my worst fears were true. I prayed that no matter what I was about to find out, I could endure it.

Then, I called Chris. I tried to be calm, but he later told me he knew immediately from my voice that something was going on. I told him the situation, and asked him if he thought I should call the doctor. Of course, he said yes. He tried to tell me to relax because everything was probably okay, but I cut him off and just said, "I feel like things are not good. I feel like it's not okay." He just sighed a big, heavy, deep sigh, and said, "Okay."

I called my doctor's office next and left a message for the nurse. While I was waiting for her to call me back, I used the restroom again and there was nothing. This gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe my instinct wasn't correct. Maybe I was just overreacting and things really were okay. When the nurse called me back and I described to her what was going on, she first said that she didn't really see a reason for me to come in. I had a regular appointment already scheduled for the next week, and she felt like I could just wait until that appointment. At first I said okay, but then I thought, "No. I need to trust my instinct. I need to push this." So I did. I told her that I was freaking out because we've had two losses before, and she said, "It's very unlikely that anything is wrong at this point." I shared with her that we had experienced a loss at 13 weeks, and I just needed to be seen for my peace of mind. She finally consented and scheduled an appointment for me at 4:00pm that day.

At this point, it was 2;00pm, so I had about an hour before I'd have to leave the house for my appointment. Chris and I decided I would drive to my doctor's office with all the children, and he and the children would wait for me in the van while I had my appointment. I didn't have much time to think about finding a babysitter, and I didn't want to alarm anyone. During the time I was waiting to wake the kids to get them ready to go, my friend Angie happened to text me. I did share just a little with her about what was going on and asked her to pray for my heart. Deep down, I knew things weren't okay. I spent much of that time in prayer for strength to endure the trial.

When it was time to wake the children, I went to Brianna's room first. She had dozed off in her bed, so I gently woke her. I knew she'd have a ton of questions about what was going on, so I had decided to just tell her. I also wanted to give her a chance to process things a bit before we found out for sure what was going on. One of my main concerns was how she would take it if it were bad news. My heart ached to even think about it. She knew that I took special meds because we had lost two babies in the past. She's {unfortunately} been exposed to miscarriage and infant death. So, I just told her that I had to go to the doctor because some things had happened that made me concerned that our baby was not okay. She listened carefully and gave me a big hug, but she didn't break down. I could tell she was trying to be strong for me.

On the way to my doctor's office, my friend Amy called me. She said, "I just felt like I should call you." so I shared with her that we were on our way to an ultrasound and it scared me that she just felt like she needed to call. We talked for just a few minutes, then I got off the phone. I just wanted time to think and process and sit with my emotions.

I was called back almost immediately upon arriving at Dr. N's. The nurse who called me back asked what was going on, and when I shared with her she said, "Oh, I'm sure things are fine." Then, I was informed that Dr. N would not be doing my ultrasound. I would be seeing Dr. N's PA, Megan. This is the same Megan that did the ultrasound after we lost B3, and I wasn't thrilled with the care I had received from her. I thought it was ironic that she would be doing my ultrasound this time, too. When we lost B3, I remember being terrified of looking at the ultrasound screen. I didn't want to see a lifeless baby, so I laid there with my eyes closed the entire time (and, it didn't matter because I had already passed the baby by the time we had the ultrasound). This time, I wanted to look. I wanted to see my baby on that screen whether she was dead or alive. Like I said, I just knew that this was it, and I didn't want to miss this last time to see my baby.

Megan began the ultrasound, and I'll never forget how still everything was on that screen. There was not a flutter, not a flicker, not a blink. I've seen tons of ultrasounds, and I knew immediately that there was no way my baby was okay. When my mind goes back to that moment, it's like time had stopped and my world just froze. Megan was not saying a word. I was holding my breath. There was no sound from the ultrasound machine of a beating heart or of fluid moving. There was no movement at all. It was just still. My baby, my heart, and my whole world. Still. I finally laid my head back and just looked away. I knew. She didn't have to say a word. It was obvious that my baby had died. Finally, Megan said, "I'm sorry. There are no fetal heart tones. I'm so sorry." I just said, "Okay."

I remember glancing at the ultrasound screen one more time, then looking at Megan and saying, "Can you tell me what the baby is measuring?" She said, "sure" and proceeded to measure the life-less, tiny body on the screen. The baby measured 13 weeks and 6 days, and at first I thought, "Wow. She's been gone a while." However, when I thought about it later, I realized that the baby had probably only been gone since about Saturday or Sunday, and that gave my heart a great deal of comfort knowing that I hadn't been carrying my deceased child for weeks. I was 15 weeks and 4 days at this appointment, but the baby had always measured about six days behind (from our very first appointment). We had credited this to the fact that I likely ovulated late because I have long cycles. Following this pattern, the baby should have measured around 14 weeks and 5 days at the appointment. It stands to reason that I lost the baby around 4 to 6 days before this, especially if her growing had slowed before her heart stopped beating (which is likely).

Megan asked if I had any more questions, and I said no. Later, I wished I had asked her if she could tell for sure what the baby's gender was, but I just wasn't thinking clearly at the time. Not asking about gender is one of my biggest regrets about this whole situation. In my heart and mind, I feel very, very strongly that the baby was a girl, but we'll never know for sure. I'll always think of her as a girl, though.

Megan left the room so I could get dressed, then came back a few minutes later to talk with me about a plan. While she was out of the room, I called Chris. I didn't know how much longer I'd be, and I wanted him to know right then. I needed him to know right then. He answered the phone, and I just said, "There was no heartbeat." I asked him to tell the kids and my parents, and he said he would. I was composed at this point, fighting hard to hold myself together because I knew once I allowed myself to break down I would likely not be able to walk out of the building. Megan came back in the room and said, "Are you okay?" The question stunned me a bit. I mean, of course I wasn't okay! How could I be okay?!? But, I just nodded my head a little and looked away. She told me she had spoken with Dr. N, and he said we would schedule a D&C for Friday morning. Keep in mind this was Wednesday afternoon. A major concern of mine at this point was that I would miscarry at home like I did with B3. That process was not only traumatizing for me, but one of the most painful things I've ever gone through, as well. I told Megan that I just couldn't go through that again. It wasn't an option. She insisted that the only time Dr. N could do the procedure was Friday morning, so I said, "What happens if it starts at home before then?" She said, "Well, you can always call our office or go to the ER." I thought that was a horrible answer for someone as far along as I was! I was honestly shocked that she said that and that was the best they could offer me.

Before I could leave, Megan said I had to go visit with the surgery scheduler to get everything lined out. At this point, I was just wanting OUT of that office, but I went on to see the scheduler like I was asked. When I walked into her office, she was texting with Dr. N because he had a conflict with Friday morning. I signed some paperwork, and then we just sat there in awkward silence while she waited to hear back from Dr. N. Finally, she said, "If you'd like to just go, I can call you with the surgery schedule." I said, "Thank you" and pretty much bolted out of that place. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. My heart was suffocating, and I needed fresh air and to see Chris. I needed to cry, to wail, to break down and let it all out.

I got to the parking lot, and Chris immediately stepped out of the van. He wrapped me in his arms and just held me for a long time. He said the big kids were upset, but doing okay. He had called my parents, and they were on their way. He had also called my brother and tried to get a hold of Russ, our brother-in-law. I was definitely crying and upset, but I still wasn't allowing myself to fully break down because I had to drive myself and my children home. I pulled myself together enough to drive, and about five minutes after leaving Dr. N's office, the surgery scheduler called me to let me know my D&C was scheduled for Friday morning at 8:00am.

After that - while I was still driving - I called my sister and my friends, Tia and Kendall. I just bawled on the phone with them as I told them our baby was no longer with us. And all of them cried with me. Those were some of the worst phone calls I've ever had to make. How do you tell someone that your world just came crashing down at your feet? I asked Kendall to pass the word to Angie and Amy, as I couldn't just continue making phone call after phone call. When we lost B3, I felt bad about not telling everyone in person, but I had no room for those feelings this time. I had to do what was best for me in that situation, and I knew my true friends understood that.

I asked everyone to pray for our hearts, that we would have strength, and that nothing would start at home before my scheduled D&C. It was a very legitimate fear of mine, and the thought of losing my baby at home like I had with B3 absolutely terrified me.

After we got home, my sister stopped by quickly with food for that evening, and I was so very grateful for that. My parents arrived just before 8:00pm, and them dropping everything to be with us meant the world to me. I received messages from my brother, sister-in-law, niece, and close friends just saying they loved us and were praying for us. I can't say enough what it means to have people in our life who are there when you need them . . . we didn't have to ask or work out details or tell them to come. They were just there. And, they certainly weren't the only ones. Over the next few days, the outpouring of love and support for us was overwhelming. The most devastating of times were made a little more bearable by the love of our people.

In a few days, I'll write about the surgery and days that followed. For now, I'm going to end this here.

Lately

I blinked and it's December 1st! I think I may make these "Lately" posts a monthly thing . . . they're a great way to recap the ins and outs of our daily life, and it gives me an excuse to post a bunch of pictures that might not otherwise make it to the blog :-).

I'm sure this isn't a newsflash to anyone, but sometimes toddlers can be really needy. And sometimes, I have things that I need to get accomplished. I'm always looking for innovative ways to keep the girls occupied (aside from screentime). They love to color, but it doesn't always keep them busy as long as I need it to. This day, I thought I'd change it up a bit and put paper down the middle of our coffee table, and let them go to town with stamps and crayons. 

They thought this was the best activity ever! It kept them entertained for over half an hour, the mess was minimal, and they loved it! Win-win-win!

We've been struggling with sickness off and on since the week before Halloween. It's mostly a cough and congestion that seems like it's getting better, only to get worse again. Brenson, especially, is really having a hard time with it. He's missed several days of school simply because he can't stop coughing. Sometimes, his cough gets really worked up at night, and he might cough for two to three hours before we can finally get it under control. On days like those, I'm not going to send him to school when he hasn't had any sleep! Brianna has missed two days of school because of sickness, as well. I'm so over it! It's rough when the Littles don't feel good!

Chris and I rarely go out just the two of us. We did have a date night in October for our anniversary, but before that it had been months. My friend, Amy, has been wanting to come hang out with the kids and convinced me to let her watch all of them so Chris and I could go out for the evening. She recruited my friend, Angie, to help her, and they came over in early November to babysit for us. The date was great for Chris and me, but I think the kids had an even better time than we did. When we got home, Brianna had Angie putting curlers in her hair while Amy was painting her nails. Bri was living it up, haha! We were so grateful for our friends' generosity to come watch our kids after they'd both taught all week.

Brecklyn and Brooke have very different hair, but it's starting to get SO long for both of them. I've been experimenting with different ways to fix their hair. This night, I pulled their hair back and put a small topsy-tail in.

Brecklyn, Brooke

Sweet girls <3 p="">

They've really lost so much of their 'baby' look *tear*

My birthday fell on a Friday this year, so Chris decided to take the day off work to spend with me. It was a day we were dreading a bit as it was the weekend of Bristol's due date, and we had sincerely hoped she would have been born on my birthday. If she had, she would have been the third generation with that birthday (I share it with my dad). How neat would that have been?

However, it ended up being a really good day, despite the empty place in our hearts for Bristol. We started out the morning at the school watching Brianna get her 25 mile running medal. We are so proud of her hard work! Her goal is to earn the 50 mile medal this year, so she's officially half-way there!

There was a whole group of students who earned their medals this day.

Victory lap!

When we were back at the school later in the day, I talked with Mrs. S, the PE teacher. She told me that as of that day, 16 percent of the students had earned their 25 mile medal. I thought that was pretty amazing!

This was also the day of Thanksgiving lunch at school, so we only had a couple hours once we got home before we had to head back to the school to eat with Brenson and Brianna. Chris had some work to do in the garage, so Brooke and Brecklyn were thrilled to get to play outside. We let them drive the powerwheels truck for the first time. It was so cute!

Brooke, Brecklyn

Brecklyn was content to be the passenger while Brooke wanted to drive, so it worked out just right. She could definitely use a little more practice, though :-)

I saw my future watching these two in the truck!

It was a little chilly outside, so we came in to warm up for a few minutes before going back to the school. I loved looking over and seeing this:

The Thanksgiving luncheon was really nice, and the food was tasty! I'm not sure Bren could have been more excited to have us there! 

After we ate lunch with Bren, Chris volunteered to help serve lunch to the next group (1st graders), then we ate with Brianna during the next lunch session. Several of her little friends sat with us and wanted to visit, so I forgot to take a photo of us eating with her :-(.

I had been battling a cough, sour throat, and headache for a day or so, so I took a fat birthday nap that afternoon. It was so nice! When I woke up, we all went outside and played for a while (the weather was gorgeous!)

And the sunset? Well, obviously it was gorgeous, too!

It just kept getting better and better!

We had planned to go out to dinner for my birthday that evening, but I just wasn't feel up to it. (I found out a couple days later - after a visit to Urgent Care - that I had bronchitis. That is very unusual for me!) Instead of going out to eat, Chris just picked up Chili's to-go for him and me, and we ate at home. The kids always want mac-n-cheese when we go to that type of restaurant, so I just fixed it for them at home while Chris was gone to get the food. It's much cheaper that way! Chris and the kids had made me my favorite kind of cake (funfetti), so we enjoyed that after dinner. 

Then, I opened a few gifts, and Russ, Lisa, and Chloe Jo came over to eat cake and visit for a while.  I was thankful for a peaceful day full of love.

At the end of November, the twins had a big 'first' . . . their first ever haircuts! Brecklyn, especially, has needed a trim for a while, so I finally scheduled an appointment for them with my hair lady, Stephanie. I talked about it with them for a few weeks, and neither one of them were too on-board with the idea. However, when we got to Stephanie's, they were both brave and did a great job!

Brooke went first. She sat so still and followed directions like a champ!

It's hard to tell that Brooke even had a trim with all her curls, but I'm glad we did it!

It took a little more bribing to get Brecklyn to sit in the chair, but she finally did it.

She also did great, and her hair looks SO much better!

Of course, when we got home, the girls immediately started playing 'beauty shop'. We've had lots of talks about how only Ms. Stephanie cuts our hair . . . never ourselves or our sister! Hopefully, they won't try it :-).

I just love the age the girls are right now. They are just so cute and precious!