This story is written through my experience and not that of my husband or children’s. I have not left anything out. My feelings, conversations and innermost thoughts are all written down. My purpose is not to offend anyone, but to show others that you can get through the loss of a child, or in my case three. Hopefully our story will encourage you. I must warn you though, it is long.
I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would be one of those women who have lost a child. Then again, I never thought I would give birth to a child, let alone three. I should start from the beginning. Eric and I were married in February of 1990 and desired to start a family right away. I was only 21 and someone so young should not have any problem getting pregnant. After numerous tests and a few surgeries, we were told I was infertile and invetro fertilization was the only way we would ever get the chance of having children of our own. At that point in time, we could not afford the high cost of IVF and had to go to plan B. after some time of me wallowing in self-pity, I knew I needed some help and rededicated my life to God.
We had decided before we were ever married that we would adopt a child after we had ‘our own’. Being a military family, we could not afford a private adoption either and opted for social services. After eighteen months of waiting and a few well-placed phone calls we had our first son. When Christian was five, we adopted Ethan and when Ethan was 2 we adopted Makenna. At the end of 1999 we got ‘baby fever’ again, yet neither one of us felt led to adopt again. Eric mentioned the possibility of IVF. Our faith had grown stronger over the years and we had a church family we loved and adored. We prayed about it and felt God leading us into IVF. I went to see my GYN and he confirmed there was nothing he could do but the best reproductive clinic was just a few buildings down.
I called; got right in and a few weeks later had a surgery to fix some things that needed a few repairs. The whole time we were praying for God’s will to be done. We knew if this was not the right time for us, then things would not fall into place but it all did. After once canceled cycle because of not getting my medications in time, we were on our way. I took all of my meds. and injections and didn’t have a problem with any side effects. I went in on May 19, 2000 and had my eggs removed 32 in all. To our surprise 29 fertilized and 21 made it to day 3. I went in on May 21, 2000 to have our embryo’s put back into my uterus, we had decided on three. When we got there the embryologist suggested we should put back four to give us a better chance at one attaching. We thought about it and decided that 3 more children were all we could handle, let alone what my body would be able to manage. Even though the chances of triplets were less than 5%, there was still a chance.
In the mean time Eric had been offered a new job in a different state. Neither one of us wanted to go and fought it all the way. Yet, the Lord was leading us to leave…or should I say forcing us. Eric was going to have to leave before I got my beta taken so we called and were able to talk my Dr. into doing it early. Ten days after our little embryos were placed inside my body; we got a positive beta. I cannot even tell you the elation we felt. We were happy and content with our other three children but to be told I would be giving birth to a child that was ‘us’ was one of the best days of my life.
Eric left to go start his new job, the kids and I stayed to get the house sold and finish up school, I home schooled Christian at the time. At the end of June it was time to move from our church and friends we loved so much. It was so hard knowing I would have to go through my pregnancy alone and with no support from the women in our congregation. Some of them had become closer than sisters to me. The day we were moving was my first ultra sound. The time had come to see how many little heartbeats we had in there. I knew there were three but when my Dr. saw those three tiny blips on the screen she about fell over. Eric looked a little faint and all I could do was smile and say, “I told you so.” After a few, “oh my God and this shouldn’t have happened”; from my Dr. she said it was a good thing we decided not to go with four.
When I would tell people there were triplets in my belly, they would look at me with this frantic look on their face and ask me how I was going to handle this. I was nothing but thrilled to be having each and every one of them and couldn’t wait to see their sweet little faces. My hands never left my belly. One night we stopped for dinner and Eric had gone out to get the car for me. I came out of the restaurant just smiling. He said to me, “why are you smiling like that?” I just looked, smiled and told him, “I can’t believe our three babies are inside me!” We laughed; little did we know our time with them would be cut short.
My pregnancy was fine and my Perinatologist was impressed with how I was doing. I would mention having a few pains in my upper stomach but, that was to be expected right? After all, I was pregnant with triplets. I started feeling them move around 16 weeks and it was the strangest feeling. Like a marching band in my belly. Eric was not yet able to feel them but I sure could. I was having ultra sounds weekly and some non-stress tests. The time had come to find out the sexes of our precious little darlings so, at 16 weeks I was able to see we were the proud parents of 2 boys and a girl. A naughty girl at that, she got caught in the act of flipping around and kicking her brother in the head.
At my 17 weeks appointment they noticed my cervix was a little shorter but, no cause for alarm. I had a non-stress test and things looked great, no contractions detected. All this time my three other children were right there with me. We found a church but it did not feel like ‘home’. The people were very nice and could not wait to oh and ah over the triplets but it sure wasn’t our church in NC. Because I had no friends in our area, I had to take the kids to most of my appts.
I knew the babies would be born early, my Dr. said they wanted to try to get me to 32 weeks. I informed her that I was going to be a miracle case and get to 36 weeks. How ignorant I was. I never thought anything would happen to my children, yes, they would be born early but they were going to be fine and grow up strong and healthy. I must admit, I stared to make some plans after my 17 weeks appointment just in case I had to go on bed rest. After all, I couldn’t be running around chasing a then almost 4 and 2 year old and couldn’t leave it all up to Christian…whom I was still home schooling. I made some calls and found a daycare that would take them on a reasonable hourly rate.
The night after my 17-week appt. we started our multiples class at the hospital. There were a few IVF couples in there, one with quints and the other with quads. There were natural twins and natural triplets. The lady with the triplets was already 31 weeks and although she was in the hospital, she was able to get up and walk around. That gave me lots of hope and I thought to myself, I could do this with my eyes closed. That night we were taking a tour in the NICU and I had mixed emotions about it. On one hand, I would be able to see how my babies would look at certain ages and on the other hand I didn’t want to think about how they would look at certain ages. The first baby we saw was a 26-week-old and was told he was doing well. I leaned over and told Eric that I couldn’t believe how tiny he was but, our babies would be bigger and if he was doing well so would they. Oh how I long to be that naïve again.
It was time for my 18-week appt. and I had the kids dropped off and told them they may be there a little longer than a few hours if my Dr. wanted to put me on bed rest. I got to the Dr. office, did the ultra sound and got to see Avery, Grace and Noah in there moving around. I was happy to see them again, being able to watch them grow weekly was such a blessing to me. I really got to know them that way, not to mention they were each totally different movers and shakers. On the ultrasound I could see Avery’s head not moving and pushing on my cervix. His head was engaged and I didn’t have much cervix left. It wasn’t his fault, I am only 5’4” and have a short torso so there wasn’t much room in there. They pretty much took up every available space and then some but, I didn’t mind I loved them so much and hadn’t even known them that long. My Dr. told me to get my records and go directly to the hospital so they could check me for contractions. I had done a lot of reading about multiples and knew I would probably be put on bed rest, I was fine with that but, the look in my Dr.s eyes scared me a little. I didn’t want to go to the hospital alone and I couldn’t get a hold of Eric. I decided to drive over to his office on the way to the hospital and see if he was there and just had his cell phone off. I finally got a hold him and as soon as I saw him I started crying. He told me not to worry, it wasn’t good for the babies and everything was going to be fine.
When I got there my Dr. had already called ahead and when they got me in the room at Labor and Delivery they put on the monitor that detects contractions and stuck an IV full of Magnesium in my arm. I was on lots of Demerol to help my uterus relax and fenagrin to hold down my lunch from the Demerol and Magnesium. I was having what they called “irritations” and was on strict bed rest now. No getting up for any reason what so ever. I had a few shots of Terbuteline to get rid of the irritations and was told when I could stay without any movement on the graph for a few hours, they would move me upstairs to a room on a regular floor. I discovered that when I would lie on my side there would be no movement on the graph…that I stared at for hours upon hours. I was finally moved upstairs in the middle of the night to a small room and was told I would be moved again in the morning to a better room.
Eric brought Christian over in the mornings so I could home school him. Actually we told people he was being hospital schooled. I would get to see Ethan and Makenna for a few minutes when Eric would come pick Christian up. I was upstairs for a week or so, I think. The days and nights ran together and I had no idea what day it was. I had a lot of Dr.s and nurses throughout my weeks in the hospital but Dr. Leverett was by far the best. I tried not to complain and be a good patient. I felt so blessed to have these three babies and be in a wonderful hospital with a level 4 NICU, what more could I ask for? On the regular floor I was being monitored only a few times a day and I was having a lot of irritations again. They decided it was best to move me back down to the Labor and Delivery floor so I could be monitored constantly. I was ok with that, after all, I wanted the best care for my babies.
I was 19 weeks pregnant at this time and was being woken up every four hours to check the babies’ heart rates and my temperature and blood pressure. I was still on the IV’s and Magnesium that had to be changed every 3 days. I wasn’t sleeping well from all of the medications, and being woken up every four hours. A nurse came for the regularly four-hour check and woke me up, I mentioned that I was so tired but just couldn’t sleep well. She said, “I don’t know why they don’t let you just sleep, the babies aren’t even viable.” It was like an ice-cold knife had just been stuck in my heart. These were our children and were alive to us from the moment they were cells dividing in a Petrie dish. How could she say that about my babies? I was able to hold it together until she left and then lost it. Was she not going to do her best to care for the triplets and me because she felt they weren’t people yet? Dr. Leverett walked in and asked what was wrong. After I told her left and that woman was never my nurse again.
I would see the kids for a few minutes daily but I missed them so much. Poor Eric was left to be both Mom and Dad, take care of the house, cook and keep my spirits up. I felt so bad for him. He looked just as tired and worn out as I did. On the weekends they would come and spend one night. The nurses were great, they would bring in extra pads and blanket for the kids to sleep on the floor and Eric would sleep in the recliner next to my bed. I longed to be home with my family but we knew that the best place for the babies and me was right there in the hospital.
A few days before Avery was born I woke up and felt such a fear come over me. I turned on the TV and the verse John 14:27, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” I was filled with such a peace instantly. I put my hand on my very large belly, that I hadn’t been able to see standing up for weeks now, and said, “see guys, everything will be fine. Don’t be afraid and please don’t come out yet.” I told everyone I could about how that verse was there on the TV when I needed it so badly.
The morning of October 8th I woke up feeling like my period was going to start. I told the nurse and one of the morning Dr.s, they of course wanted to know what I expected, after all I was pregnant with triplets. Over the last few days I had more and more heartburn that Tums just wouldn’t touch and it was getting very painful as well. I was taking some stronger stuff for it from the pharmacy and it would help for a while. Little did I know at the time, it was actually my gallbladder. It was mid afternoon by this time and I was talking to my mom on the phone telling her about this strange pain I was having and the nurse whom I had told in the morning about it was in there. She looked at me kind of strange when I told my mom, “I have told the Dr.s and nurses about it but, they all seem to think it is because there are three.” My mom said I should tell another Dr. this went on a little longer and I knew there was something wrong. I rang the front desk and asked them to send in Dr. Leverett, my favorite Dr. She came in immediately and said, “There must be something wrong because you never complain.” She checked me and I was 8-cm dilated and 100% effaced. She pressed the call button and called for an ultrasound machine and prep for a birth.
Wait, was I hearing her right? Prep for a birth? That couldn’t be, I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t taken any Lamaze classes, I was planning for a c-section and 32 weeks and with the babies getting big in the NICU that would give me time to get their room together in our new house we were having built. “Oh Lord help me! This can’t be happening; it is way too early still. Fix it, stop it!” God raised Lazarus from the dead, He created the heavens and the earth and everything in them, He parted the Red Sea…surely he could stop my contractions and my baby from coming down the birth canal. The next thing I knew there were at least 5 nurses in my room with Dr. Leverett. They were checking me doing who knows what else when all of a sudden I hear or maybe I felt it, a pop and a gush of warm fluid all over me. I must have been the only one to notice because none of them even looked up or stopped what they were doing at all. I said,”Um, Dr. Leverett I think my water just broke.” She checked and sure enough it had. With that everyone left. Where was everyone going? Surely they wouldn’t leave me here to give birth on my own; I had no idea what to do. A minute later or it seemed to me, the nurse I had all day came in and put in a catheter. My Dr. must have chewed someone out for letting things get this far without her knowing it. The nurse said to me,”why didn’t you tell me you were having pains?” “I did tell you, first thing this morning.” She left and I didn’t see her again the rest of the day. All of a sudden I realized Eric wasn’t there. I knew he was going to do some shopping before he came to the hospital, they were planning on an overnight stay, but he wasn’t there yet. I started to get a little frantic when another nurse came in. She asked if there was anyone I wanted her to call. I burst into tears and told her my husband wasn’t there yet. How could I give birth to our first-born child and him miss it? What if the baby was born and died before Eric could even see the miracle God had given us? “Please Lord, don’t let this happen…keep my babies safe, don’t let this happen.” I have no idea if she had gotten a hold of Eric or not but in an instant he was there, or so it seemed. He was stroking my hair telling me, “it’s going to be ok, they will be fine don’t worry.” The nurses took Christian; Ethan and Makenna into another room for them to play and watch TV while their sibling or siblings were born.
Eric was holding my hand as they wheeled me into an operating room down the hall. The anesthesiologist came in to put in the epidural in case I needed a c-section. I heard, “Mr. Dowell, come with me and you can get some scrubs on.” He looked at me and tried to smile. This was not how I envisioned the birth of our children. I thought the look on Eric’s face would be that of joy, peace and excitement and the thought of the emanate birth’s at hand, not the look of pain, sadness and horror. The epidural was awful to say the least. When that was completed and Eric was back in the room, the Dr. who was ‘in charge’ that day took another ultrasound. He asked us, “If the other two babies don’t drop when the first is born, do you want to try to keep the other two in to give them a better chance for survival?” I didn’t even have to think about it, “yes” came popping out of my mouth. With that settled, it was time to start the show.
I couldn’t feel the pains anymore and my first thought was, “praise the Lord, God stopped everything. Now take me back to my room.” Unfortunately, it was the epidural working its magic. Everyone could see the spikes from the contractions on the graph but I couldn’t feel a thing and certainly didn’t feel like I had to push. I looked up at Eric, who was over my head, and said, “I don’t know what I am supposed to do.” You would think all of those months watching A Baby Story; I would be able to give birth alone in the woods. The nurse who was holding my hand and talking to me in a very soothing voice throughout the epidural process, said she would help me and tell me when to push. Another spike came and she said, “Take a deep breath, hold it and push until I count to ten.” I did what she said and pushed but no baby. One more time and when she hit five I felt my first child emerge from my body. There was such a strange silence in the room and I am not sure if it may have only been in my own ears. The only thing I heard was, “oh my God” come out of my sweet husbands mouth. I tried to wrench my head back to look at Eric and see if he knew something I didn’t, they had the baby in the corner with four or five people from the NICU working on him. “What’s wrong Eric, is something wrong with the baby?” “No, everything is fine it’s just he’s so tiny.” I looked at Dr. Leverett, who had just caught our child. She smiled that wonderful smile she always had on her face for me and said, “Do you know that child tried to cry?” We all let out a tense chuckle and Eric squeezed my shoulders. After they took the baby away, I asked if it was a boy or a girl? Dr. Leverett laughed and said, “you know, I didn’t check.”
After lying there, for what seemed an eternity waiting to see if the other two babies would follow suit and be born. It was decided that they were happy to stay put where they were for the time being. I was taken back to my room and I asked Eric to go to the NICU and make sure the baby was ok and find out what it was. Eric came back with a smile on his face and said we had a son. Our first child, Avery Thomas, was born at 22 weeks 2 days at 5:17 pm on October 8th, 2000. He weighed 1 pound 1.9 ounces and was less than 12 inches long. Eric brought me pictures of him, thanks goodness for digital cameras, and he was the most beautiful child I had ever seen. He looked exactly like his daddy with my hair color. So far Avery was doing well but the first 24 to 48 hours were the most critical. Eric took each of the kids to see him and they would come back and tell me all about their brother. Christian made him a beautiful nametag for his incubator, which I still have.
I was not able to see Avery, except through pictures, because I still had Grace and Noah in-utero to give them a better chance at survival. I had been given the steroid injections to hopefully help mature their lungs. The next day, after things calmed down inside my belly, Noah realized he had lots of room! He had always been my non-mover since he was up in my rib cage but now he was having some fun. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. You could see his arms and legs poking out and he would do flip after flip after flip. I just lay there laughing at him. Eric had not really been able to feel them move and certainly not see them moving around. I would try to get him excited about it but what I didn’t realize at the time was he had already started pulling away, trying not to get attached to his children.
I was able to keep the epidural in for three days. However, because of the fact I still had to lay on my sides the medication was not being distributed evenly and was just going down one side of my body. I was strapped up to so many different wires and monitors that were getting tangled up. I hadn’t been able to eat or drink since Avery was born three days before. I was tired and worn out, praying constantly for strength to be able to do this for the sake of my children. I was in a bed that was slanted with my feet higher than my head to help keep the babies in and the magnesium was eating up my veins not to mention it was getting harder to breath. There was a little fluid beginning for form in my lungs from the Magnesium, which is one of the side effects of being on it so long. I was having blood tests regularly and nurses trying to find places to stick another IV, even in my feet. I didn’t know how much more I could take but, I kept focusing on God’s peace and trying not to be afraid. After the epidural was taken out, I opted not to have another one put back until it was time for Gracie and Noah to be born.
It didn’t take long for the medication from the epidural to get out of my system and start feeling contractions. They had a nurse stay in my room constantly to monitor me. She showed me how to breathe through the contractions and fed me ice chips. My Dr.s were at a loss as to what to do with me. Should they feed me or try to wait for something to happen. I went through hours and hours of hard, fast and long labor. It wouldn’t give me even a break to take a breath, I was trying not to cry and be brave and strong. It was just so hard and I was so tired. Eric has always been able to ‘fix’ things for me but, this time as in many times to come, there was nothing he could do and the look of helplessness on his face broke my heart. They were giving me Demerol to try to take the edge off and give me some time to rest but it never lasted long. I was miserable and Eric talked me into getting another epidural. The first guy couldn't get it and the second lady was able to get it, but turns out it was in the wrong place and I was getting no medication at all. I later just asked her to take it out and I didn’t want to have to go through it all again right then.
I slept on an off and around 1am on October 12th I was woken up by a terrible contraction that took my breath away. I thought, “this is it, I am going to die without anyone knowing it.” Eric was sleeping and I couldn’t do anything to wake him up. After the contractions released me from its death grip I was able to catch my breath, then my water broke. I was yelling at Eric to wake up, I had no energy and I am sure nothing but a whisper came from my mouth. I hit the call button and told them my water broke. Again, the crowd of Dr.s and nurses rushed in grabbed my bed and wheeled me into an operating room. I went one way and my kids went the other. They were such troopers through all of this. Their whole world had been turned upside down and they were doing great.
Eric was in scrubs again and we were asked once more, “If the third baby stays up high, do you want to try to keep him in?” I was crying and looked at Eric, “I’m sorry…I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He told the Dr. no, let them both be born. I felt such a pang of guilt but I thought this would literally kill me if I went through this any longer. I would have done anything for my children, even die for them but I still had three other children who needed me too. It was time for me to push and I went to grab the handles on the bed, “where are the handles, there are no handles!” I have heard horror stories off women in labor and they turn into these raving lunatics who want to kill everyone in sight. I had been calm and polite throughout all of this, until now. I needed those handles! The nurse told me to prop myself up on my elbows to push. Was this woman crazy? Could she not see that I looked like death warmed over? Did she not see that I had no strength left? I tried and tried to push and I was pushing as hard as I could. There was a resident delivering the baby, I wanted Dr. Leverett but I certainly wasn’t going to be waiting around for her to come in for her shift. Since Avery’s placenta had been left in to keep the next one from ‘falling out’, the resident couldn’t tell what was coming out the placenta or Grace. There was what seemed to me, a panic in the air and they rushed Eric out of the room. They told me they were going to perform an emergency c-section because they needed to get the baby out now. Now I was getting really scared, the anesthesiologist put her fingers on my throat, a mask over my face and I was out. Grace Elizabeth was born at 22 week 6 days at 1:42 am and Noah Anderson was born at 1:43 am on October 12, 2000. Both weighed in at one pound.
I woke up in the recovery room and placed my hand on my belly, my babies were gone. I had both a feeling of relief, sadness and happiness at the same time. I have no idea how one can feel three such different emotions all at once but, I did. I have no idea how long I was in recovery. It must have been awhile because when I woke, I felt refreshed and had some energy. Eric came in and the first thing out of my mouth was “how are the babies?” So far they were doing great but they were still in the honeymoon stage. Only time would tell and it didn’t take long for time to find us. Time still eluded me and I am not sure if it was day or night. As soon as I got settled in my room I wanted to go see our beautiful triplets that God had been so gracious to bless us with.
On our way to the NICU Eric was telling me I would be shocked at how they looked because they were attached to so many wires and such. I didn’t care; I just needed to get to my babies! Noah was the first one I saw, he had his head turned away from me and the top of his incubator was covered in plastic wrap to keeps any things floating in the air off of his delicate skin. His nurse told me I could touch him, “I don’t want to disturb him”, I replied. Actually, I was a little afraid I would hurt his somehow. I though to myself, I have plenty of time to touch and hold him. I didn’t, time was not my friend anymore in fact, time had become my enemy. Eric wheeled my around so I could see his face. What I saw shocked me, I was looking into the most beautiful face I had ever seen in my life. He looked just like me; this was actually my child. I was so overwhelmed I started to cry. Not because he was so tiny and had such a long fight ahead of him but, because we had actually done it. We had children, who may have started out, in a petrie dish but they were part of Eric and I. The thing we had desired for the last 10 years was now a reality in these tiny innocent people, who didn’t deserve the hard start at life they were getting. Through my tears I realized Noah had been born with his eyes open. I stared into those smokey gray eyes and he actually caught my eyes and held my gaze. If only for a moment, those little eyes cut through my soul and in that moment it was only Noah and I in the world. We had a connection, my soul aches for him and his brother and sister today, as it will everyday for the rest of my life. I turned to Eric; “did you see that? He looked at me! He saw me!” I wanted so bad to scoop my sweet Noah up in my arms and make it all better, mommies always make it better right? Not this time, mommy could not make it better.
My amazing Grace was the next one I saw. I apologized to her, as I did to each of my children, for not being able to keep them safe like I should have been able to do. Gracie was the worst off; her head was full of bruising and a purple color. However, you could see her beauty. She was the perfect mix of Eric and I. She my hair and eyes and Eric’s mouth and nose. She had my Grandmother’s beautifully delicate long fingers. She had everything she needed 10 fingers and 10 toes, 2 arms and 2 legs, she was perfect in every way. I mix of my husband and myself, both of our best qualities merged into one little person. Surely God would not allow anything to happen to such a gift to the world, would he? Not my children, not the children I prayed for and did everything humanly possible to keep safe and healthy. I talked to her for a while and told her how much I loved her and would see her a little later after I had a nap. I was getting very tired again.
Last but certainly not least was my little trooper Avery. He took my breath away, this little boy looked so much like Eric it was unreal. I mean literally from the top of his head to his toes, he was his fathers’ son. Still to this day, I can look at Eric and see my darling Avery Thomas. What a gift God gave me in this. I was looking at my first-born son, who had lived for four days without any contact from his mother, I apologized to him for having to do that to him. While Avery was in utero, he would react to my voice. I even believe he knew his name. When I would talk to them, I would place my hand over where each of them were in my belly, say their name and chat with them. You know those crazy things pregnant ladies do when no one is watching. He reacted to my voice from the beginning. The nurses told us how active he was and kicked and squirmed all the time. By this time I was getting pretty worn out, even though I hadn’t done anything to wear myself out. Eric started pushing my out and went back to talk to a nurse for something and I turned myself around in the wheelchair. I was in the middle of my children, looking at each one, “God, I pray for your perfect will to be done with these children, your children. I am handing you these gifts you blessed us with and know you will do what is best for them. Keep the safe and healthy but, most of all out of pain.” My greatest fear was that my children would be in pain and no one would know. Not once did I think I would lose any of my children, God was on my side and He would make sure everything was ok.
The next few days are a blur to me. I cannot for the life of me remember when the NICU Dr. told us they had done ultrasounds on the babies heads to see if there was any bleeding on the brain, which is very common in preemies, let alone micro preemies like ours. Gracie had a grade 4 brain bleed, there worse there was and chance of survival was not in the cards. Noah had a grade 3 brain bleed, not far off of Grace’s but not as bad either. Avery had a grade 1, which was very good considering his size and age. He was fighting with all he had and then some to survive. I still had no question in my mind that I would be taking all three of my children home…alive. After this Eric took the kids home so they could all sleep in their own beds. That night the NICU called Eric sometime in the middle of the night, it was Gracie; we were to come down before it was too late. Eric came to the room, got me and we went down. We gathered around her and talked to her, told her that it was ok to go be this Jesus if he was calling her home. We would be fine; it was ok to go. This amazing little girl was holding on with everything she had. We stayed with her a while and she would not let go. I went back up to my room and Eric went back home.
On October 14th I was on the phone with my friend Lyn when one of the NICU Dr.s came in. I told her I had to go the Dr. was there to talk about Gracie. The first words out of his mouth were, “I need to talk to you about baby Noah.” What? Did he say Noah? Not Noah, it can’t be Noah. I was prepared, as well as one can prepare for the imminent death of their own child but, not for Noah. “I am sorry Mrs. Dowell, baby Noah has gotten worse.” The all I heard was blah, blah, and blah…. I called Eric and told him Noah was getting worse. He got to the hospital and again left the kids in my room to play. We went down to the NICU and sat with Noah. I stroked his hand and again told my child it was ok to leave us, to go be with Jesus where he would be able to he healthy and happy. I tried to assure him it was truly ok to go, while my heart cried out in pain to God to perform a miracle and save my child. Again, like his sister he hung on. Before we left, we went to visit Gracie and Avery. Again, we told Grace it was ok to let go and stop fighting if she needed to. We went back to the room and I started pumping to get my milk going. I have no idea how much time elapsed between how long we were in the room and the phone rang. It was Noah; we needed to get there. I told Eric to go on ahead and I would get myself together and have a nurse bring me down. I had unhooked myself from the milking machine and called for a wheelchair when my phone rang. It was Eric, it was too late. My sweet Noah had died without either of his parents by his side, no one to hold him and comfort him as he went home. Guilt riddled my body, as it would again and again, many times after that day.
Somehow, I knew in my soul to make sure I said everything I needed and wanted to say to each of my children. I didn’t see it as a blessing at the time but I believe God put that on my heart so at least I would not have guilt about that. I have seen how that kind of guilt eats up so many women who have lost their children. I can honestly say I told my children everything I needed to while they were alive. For that, I am eternally grateful. I also believe God allowed Noah to be my only child born with his eyes open, because He knew I would not be there to hold him, comfort him and make him feel safe in this world before he left it. We had that connection a mother and child need when he caught my gaze just 2 days before. He knew we loved him and how desperately we wanted him.
Eric came to get me, I was crying as he came into the room and as soon as I saw him, I cried even harder. My favorite nurse from Labor and Delivery who was on her way up to check on me, Stephanie, met us in the hall and said she would keep the kids for us. We proceeded down to see our son. When we got there, they had a screen around his bed so they could take all of the monitors, IV’s and tubes out of his tiny little body. We went to see Grace and Noah but all I could do was stare at that screen and cry. How could this have happened? I gave him to God to take care of and look what happened. God allowed my child to die, to leave me and to leave in my heart…oh God! What is this pain I feel! I can’t breathe, I think I am going to be sick…God, give me strength. Give me peace, I have to be able to hold it together. I have five other children to take care of. I am so sorry my sweet Noah, please know mommy loves you! God gave me what I asked for, I had the strength and peace I needed to get through the day. Noah’s nurse came over and gently placed this tiny bundle in my arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as Eric wheeled me down the hall into a small room specifically for parents to ‘say goodbye’. The nurse told us to take as much time as we wanted and let him know when we were finished, then handed us a disposable camera to take pictures. Unfortunately we didn’t have our digital camera with us and the pictures we took didn’t come out very well. I unwrapped him from the blanket and he was dressed in a little outfit with the cuffs of the sleeves rolled up. I took his little hat off and stroked his hair that had his father’s texture and my color. I ran my finger down his arms and legs touched his toes and wrapped his fingers around mine. He was so peaceful and still, I kissed him and kissed him. We talked to him and told him how proud we were of him, how strong and wonderful he was. When I felt I had memorized every millimeter of him I finally looked at Eric, there were tears streaming down his face. I handed his son to him, Eric has always been a wonderful father but that day I saw such gentleness in him I had never seen before. I saw so much love and pain on his face at that moment, I knew we wouldn’t have much more time with Noah. I knew Eric would slip away and put even more distance between himself and our remaining two children, who were fighting for their lives, so when I knew he had had enough I told him it was probably time to get the nurse. He of course asked if I was sure and I of course told him I was, neither one of us were sure about anything anymore. He left and I had a few minutes alone with the child who never gave anyone a hard time in utero. He would give the nurse a kick when she would put the Doppler on my belly to hear his heartbeat but he would always settle down so she could get it after that. He probably thought it was funny to give her a pop in her ears every four hours, after all, he was my son. The nurse came in and I watched as he walked away with my son. Eric wanted to take me back to my room but I needed to tell Gracie and Avery about Noah. I needed to tell them their brother was playing with Jesus now and I fought the uncontrollable urge to beg them not to leave me too. We left there with a little box that had all of our sons’ belongings.
The next 24 hours were a blur to me, I have no idea if I slept or ate. I do know I put all of my focus and energy on Gracie, Avery and their survival. I kept pumping to build up my milk supply, other than that I am at a loss. Eric came to see me and I am not sure how long he was there before the phone rang. My heart sank and I immediately got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I thought I was going to be sick. My body started shaking uncontrollably, I couldn’t make it stop, my hands and legs. My teeth were chattering and every muscle in my body was literally convulsing. I didn’t want to do this again, how could I do this again? How did God expect me to say goodbye to my daughter? Our Gracie was dying and I couldn’t save her, I was her mother and I couldn’t save her. I think I scared Eric to death because he told a nurse to give me something to calm me down. He was so strong, how was he being so strong? How was he getting through this and I was turning into someone who belonged in the nut house?
We got down to the NICU and the screen was already up around her. I panicked, I missed it again! I wasn’t going to be able to hold her and say goodbye but they just put it up so we would have some privacy. Eric sat next to me as they put her in my arms. My amazing baby girl was in my arms and even though the machine was breathing for her I could feel her chest rise and hall against mine. Somehow I was able to cry and talk to her at the same time. We told her how beautiful she was and how proud we were of her for all of the fighting he did. How much we loved her and how much fun she was going to have with Noah and Jesus in heaven. I told her to give Noah a kiss for me and I kissed her sweet face. The nurse asked if it was ok to remove the oxygen now, I looked at Eric and back at the nurse “it won’t hurt her right?”, “no hun, she’s already gone.” She asked me again, I nodded my head and with that our little girl was gone. Just as we did with Noah, we headed back to that same room. Grace was dressed in a pink gown and wrapped in a cute little pink blanket. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was still bruised from being in the birth canal and her mouth was distorted some from the vent being in there but her beauty came shining through. Our perfect mix of my DNA and Eric’s DNA was laying so still and beautiful in my arms. Eric just stared at her and didn’t say a word. We talked a little when we were in that room with Noah the day before but today was different. He had lost his daughter and it was killing him inside. He held her a bit and again I knew when our time was up. If I forced him to stay in there any longer he would not have been able to deal with it. I wrapped Gracie back up and he wheeled me back into the NICU. I kissed her one last time and handed her to her nurse and that was the last time I saw our daughter. I had to tell Avery his sister was now gone too. I had calmed down and was talking to Avery when I saw my nurse come in. She came over and shot something in my IV and started wheeling me back to my room! Was this woman crazy? I asked her what she had given me, “something to make you relax.” I told Avery bye and I would see him later and was taken back to my room. I had prayed for non-of them to be born or die on Christian’s birthday. God answered my prayers. Grace and Noah were born on the 12th, Christian’s birthday was the 13th, Noah died on the 14th and Grace died on the 15th. We left that day with another box, this time if had all of our daughters’ belongings in it.
The next day was time for me to go home, I had been in the hospital for four weeks. I had my staples take out and was all taped up. I was looking forward to leaving the hospital but not looking forward to returning to the same place where I was last happy and my babies were safe inside my womb. Eric had dropped the kids off at the daycare and picked me up. With all of the fluids in me I couldn’t fit into my shoes anymore, so I had to wear slippers. I had gone to see Avery that morning and we went to see him before we left as I knew I would not feel up to coming back again that night, no matter how bad I wanted to. We left the hospital and I looked back at this huge looming building that looked so safe just 4 weeks prior, now it looked so dark and ominous. That building had sucked the life right out of me and it made me sick to look at. I was leaving with my belly and arms empty, except for two small boxes I held on my lap, and that building still held my last child in its greedy clutches. As we drove down the highway and I was so confused by all of the cars going along as if it was just another day. How could the world still be turning? How could these people be going to work, shopping and out to lunch? My world had stopped and the person I was had disappeared, how could life go on as if nothing happened?
We stopped by to rent a breast pump and went out to lunch. We were eating and a couple came in, she was pregnant and I heard her order a coke. I wanted to go shake her and scream at her, “what is wrong with you? How could you even take any chances with your unborn child? Can’t you see two of my babies are dead and the other is hanging on by a thread!” Of course she didn’t know any of this, how could she? She was still in that ignorant bliss that will forever elude me now. My mom was coming in the next day on the 17th and I really wanted to hold my kids and be able to sleep some. Luckily I had some painkillers for my c-section and I used them to help me sleep a dreamless sleep. I have no idea how many times I called the NICU to check on Avery that night.
The next day we went to see Avery for a while and he was doing well. I could walk in and say, “hey darling” and he would go crazy. He knew Eric’s voice and would do the same thing. He made me so happy doing that. All of his stats would go up and they would have to rush over and turn all of his tubes, wires and IV’s down. He showed off whenever we were there. If I could have, I would have never left there. His eyes were still closed and he was 9 days old. You could see his eyebrows moving up and down as if he was trying to open them. He would hold my finger and do so well. When something happened and he needed more oxygen, my voice could always calm him and he would settle down. When we would say goodbye to him, he would get a little cranky and try pulling at his ventilator and his stats would go haywire and the nurse would have to turn everything back up. We picked my mom up that night and after she spent some time with the kids at the house I asked her if she wanted to go see her Grandson. She jumped at the chance, which made me feel great because seeing a baby as small as he was could be very uncomfortable for some people. I should have known she would want to see him, she considered him nothing but her Grandson. We got to the hospital and I said, “watch this, hey darling boy.” His stats went all over the place and his meds and oxygen had to be turned down. We sat and talked to him and he held my finger. As usual, when I had to leave his meds had to be turned back up. I wasn’t sleeping very well so I made a few calls to check on him in the middle of the night. I had gotten to where I could dial it in the dark.
When I talked to the nurses in the morning the said he had not been able to digest the formula he they were giving him. I asked them if they would please try my breast milk now, I had been off of antibiotic for a few days and my milk was good now. I had been pumping every 4 hours and could get a few ounces out each time. They agreed and when we went to see him I took some in. The kids came in and were able to spend a little time with him before they got too bored. My mom was great and took them into the waiting room so I could have some more time with him. We had it scheduled so I would go in the morning and night after the kids went to bed and Eric would stop on his way home from work for a visit. It wasn’t nearly enough time with him but I was still so weak and going up there twice a day was all I could physically handle. Eric called me on the way out of the hospital after his visit that day, “guess what?”, “what?”, “Avery is taking in your milk!” That was the best news I had heard in weeks! I screamed “Praise the Lord!” as tears streamed down my face. This meant he was going to be fine right? His kidneys were working well and now he was taking my milk, he was going to be just fine. He hadn’t pooed but now that he was eating, through a tube, his bowels would work for sure. I never prayed for poop in my life but I sure was then. Our last child had to survive, he just had to.
Having to put focus all of my energy on Avery and his health, it left me little time and energy to grieve my other two children who had gone on before him. Things were going to be fine though, I trusted God and gave him my son and He told me not to be afraid. I called the hospital to check on Avery when he was 11 days old, when I talked to the nurse she said his eyes were opening up. I couldn’t get ready to go fast enough, his eyes were open and I was going to get to see them. He was doing really well that day. In the NICU there is always one step forward and two steps back, he could be doing well one minute and the next take a turn. SO far he was having a great day. The head Dr. in the NICU came to speak with me while I was visiting my now open eyed little darling boy. He said Avery was a miracle baby, they had never had an infant that young survive for such a long time. They usually don’t last through the first 24–48 hours. I smiled at him, “your right, Avery is a miracle, God is with him and taking care of him.” He was taking lots of breaths on his own, which was wonderful. On the way home that day I was so giddy about what the Dr. said, I looked at my mom; “did you hear was he said? Avery is a miracle and the youngest to survive there.” She smiled and I saw a tear trickle down her face. The next few days Avery kept improving and even had a little ‘smear’ of poop on his diaper. I would have taken it for his baby book had I not though it would really gross him out when he got older.
It was a Friday and Eric and I were in to see Avery when the Dr. came over and said he needed to talk to us about something. It couldn’t be bad, our son was doing so well and after all he was a miracle and they don’t go away. We were told that He would need surgery to close the PDA in his heart. His little body was having to work too hard to pump his heart and in order to keep his blood pressure up they were giving him dopamine. He needs to get off of it and the only way was to have the surgery. It was a common surgery, they did it all the time and he would die for sure if he didn’t have it. Of course we consented to it right away. It would take place on Monday October 23rd. When I went to see him on Saturday, his vent was getting too small and I could actually hear his little cry. It was a glorious sound, so tiny and shrill yet music to my ears. I talked to him and told him that once he had his surgery they would take out that nasty vent and he would be able to scream all he wanted. That night his vent was change to a bigger one so there wouldn’t be so much leakage of oxygen. When Eric and I went to visit on Sunday, I knew something was wrong. He wasn’t his normal active self, they said it was because of his heart. No, that wasn’t it, he barely reacted to my voice and he had one eye that he wouldn’t close or blink. “What is wrong with his eye? How long has it been tike this?” We couldn’t get a straight answer and were told they would put some ointment on it. I knew it was over, in my heart I knew. I kept telling myself all sorts of things like, tomorrow after the surgery things will be fine and he will get back to normal. I knew it wasn’t true but I believed it anyway.
Monday came and we went to the hospital ready for Avery to have surgery. The minister from the church we were attending was there and we had people all over the country praying for our little guy. This had to work, he had to be ok and pull through the surgery fine, with all of these people praying for him how could he not? We were waiting and waiting, the surgical team was there and I watched as they took and ultrasound of my sons head from a far. Why are they looking at his head when it is his heart that has the problem? His Dr. came over and asked us to come into his office. It was a tiny room about 6 foot by 6 foot I am guessing, with bookcases on two walls and a table in the middle. There was no room in there at all and the walls seemed to be closing in on me even further when we all sat down. “We have taken and ultrasound of baby Avery’s head because he isn’t reacting to any reflex tests we have performed. He has had a stroke and the chance of survival is slim and if he does he will have very sever ceribal palsy. If you decide on the surgery, just know there is a chance he could bleed to death during the procedure. We have canceled the surgery for today so you can decide what you want to do. We can re-schedule for tomorrow if that is your decision. I am so sorry, you both have been through so much.” He left the room and I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t take a breath and all I could hear was the beating of my heart. Eric held me against his chest and I heard this strange noise in the room and realized it was me, this awful guttural sound was coming from my mouth. I couldn’t breath and I was glad, all I wanted to do was die. I could not go through this again, not with Avery. He was 15 days old, this wasn’t supposed to happen to him, he had survived too long. I asked Eric, “what did I do wrong? Why do we deserve this? Am I not a good enough Christian? Are we not raising our children the right way? Were we too greedy wanting more children? Why us? Wasn’t this Gods will?” “No baby, we didn’t do anything wrong and we don’t deserve this. Look at what you went through to have these children.” “Why wasn’t it enough? Why does God want Avery too? Can’t He just PLEASE leave us one?” “I don’t have any answers for you, I am sorry.” I was so sorry, here I couldn’t even give my husband children like a normal wife and when I did I could keep them live long enough not to cause him the worst pain in the world. I have no idea how long we were in there crying and holding each other. He said he needed to tell the minister what was going on and that there would not be a surgery that day. When he left, I fell to my knees and questioned God like I had never done before. I had always figured things happened for a reason, this time I demanded the reason. “Lord you told me not to be afraid and I wasn’t, you said you would take care of them and things would be fine, they would be fine! They aren’t fine!” “They are fine; they are here with me. I have done what I told you I would do. I am taking care of them.” “No, this is wrong, you are wrong…you gave them to me and I want them back.” “You gave them to me for my will to be done.” “Yes, but you weren’t supposed to take them! Please give them back…please.” “I can’t, I know your pain and I am crying with you. I had to watch my son die too.” “I know and for that gift of your son I thank you so much but my children are just my children. They can’t do anything and make a difference in anyone’s lives. Please give them back to me.” “I’m sorry, I can’t.“ “Then just tell me why. I will be ok if you just tell me why, I promise.” “You wouldn’t understand why and it wouldn’t be a good enough reason.” “Please let them know how much I love them.” “They know.” “Please give them back…wait Lord don’t leave me, I can’t do this. I can’t let Avery go, I can’t. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me!” Somehow I was able to get control of myself just before Eric walked in the door. My eyes were so swollen that I could barely see. I wanted to go see Avery before we left but there was a crowd of people gathered round him. I could feel myself start to panic when Eric said, “he’s ok, they are just working on him.”
When we arrived home my mom was surprised to see us back so soon. We had to tell her what was going on and it broke her heart. I had already become numb and was leaving my world for some safe place far away. We all sat down and held each other. She prayed with us but all I kept thinking as I watched her tears fall was that they were the biggest tears I had ever seen in my life. How could tears that big come out of her eyes? I had disappeared the person I once was, was now gone and I didn’t think I could find her again. We talked about what we needed to do and I begged Eric to let him have the surgery. “I can’t choose death for our son, I have to choose life.” He agreed and called the Dr. back with our decision.
The next day was October 24th 2000 and it was a beautiful sunny day. I was getting dressed when the phone rang. It was the NICU, “Mrs. Dowell can you get down here right away, baby Avery won’t last much longer.” I don’t think I said a word, just hung up the phone and called Eric at work for him to come home and drive us to the hospital. My mom came in after she heard the phone, I didn’t cry and I said, “Avery will die today, do you want to hold him before we let them take out the vent?” She said no, that she would stay with the kids so Eric and I could spend time with him and say goodbye. I think that was the best gift my mom could have ever given me. Eric pulled up and as we were leaving Christian said, “I hope the surgery works mom and he will get better soon.” I turned around and looked at my oldest son, “He won’t ever get better, he is dying.” I heard him start to cry and I turned around and walked out the door. To this day I wish I had taken the time to comfort him but I didn’t.
We got to the hospital without saying a word, just holding hands. Our son was dying today, is all that kept running through my head. We got there and were almost in the NICU when I stopped and ran to the bathroom, I told Eric to go on ahead. I thought I would be sick, I started shaking again like I did the day Gracie died. Somehow I regained my composure and went in to say goodbye to my son. He deserved for me to be strong and not panic when he needed to be reassured he could go. He was still hooked up to all of the machines when they place his sweet body in my arms. I looked over every inch of him and memorized his face, fingers and toes. His hair had grown so much; he was really starting to look like a handsome boy. I could hear Eric sobbing behind me, this was killing him. I was talking to him and telling him all of the things he would be able to do in heaven and he would be with Gracie and Noah again. The nurses were crying and I just kept on talking to him. I offered him to Eric to hold but he declined, “you keep him and long as you need.” I wasn’t going to argue, I never wanted to let this gorgeous child go. My first-born son was the last to die. I offered him again to Eric, who declined. I sat staring at this child who was the spitting image of his father and thought, I need to make Eric hold him, he will regret this forever if he doesn’t hold him. “Are you sure you don’t want to hold him?” “No, you go ahead.” I didn’t have the energy or strength to argue with him about this and try to force the issue. I knew how much he loved him and Avery did too. I looked at Eric, “are you ready?” He nodded and I looked at the nurse, who was crying harder than I was, “it’s ok now to turn off the vent.” There must have been some sort of miscommunication between his nurses and the Dr. because she said she would have to go ask. Did she think I would pull the plug on my son if there were a chance he would get better? The Dr. came directly over and confirmed the fact that they had done and other ultrasound that morning and more tests and there was no brain activity. As she put her hand over toward the switch and I heard my husband say, “God, take care of my son.” Then a sob that I had never heard before came from the depths of his soul. Everyone apologized for all we had been through and commented on how well we handled things. How they could see our faith in God and our love for our children. I watched Avery laying there on the bed and the nurse trying to clean him up through her tears. Eric tapped me on the shoulder and asked that we not go through saying goodbye in that room. I knew then and there it would send him over the edge and I agreed that this would be our last goodbye. The vent was out of Avery’s mouth and I leaned over and kissed him on his tiny little lips, “good night my angel, I love you so much.” With that, we walked out of the NICU for the last time holding yet another small box with our sons’ belongings.
Eric took care of all of the details after their deaths. I am so thankful he decided on having the cremated and not have a burial. I can’t even tell you how much of a blessing that was to me. I had developed an infection in my incision from the c-section and had to go to my Preinatologists office just days after Avery’s death. His office was next to the hospital. I wanted to do something to say ‘thank you’ to all of the wonderful Dr.s and nurses who took such great care of my children and tried everything humanly possible to give them the best chance at life they could possibly have. I stopped by the floral shop and got a dozen red (for Avery), Pink (for Grace) and yellow (for Noah) roses and put them in a vase. I took them to the NICU and gave them to my favorite nurse there, she had been both Grace and Avery’s nurse. We cried and held each other; I gave her the roses and donated the tape recorder we purchased to go in Avery’s crib after the surgery, so he could hear our voices all the time. It was nice to know my children touched the lives of those who took care of them. It wasn’t worth losing them but it made me feel good that in their very short lives they perhaps made a difference in someone’s life. Perhaps they went home and hugged their children a little harder each night or told someone they loved them.
After my infection had cleared up I was having all sorts of terrible stomach pains and fevers. It was discovered that I had a stomach ulcer and a gallbladder full of stones. I didn’t know that in some women fertility drugs could cause stones to form that coupled with the fact that I was pregnant with 3 babies, was most likely the reason for my pre-term labor. I would have still had to be on bed rest because of the fact that I had lost my cervix but in the end it was the pre term labor that caused their early births.
Eric put aside his grieving to take care of me. He never complained about the house not being clean or food not made for dinner. I did nothing but sit, cry and curse God for taking away my children. Eric never once told me to get over it or snap out of it, he gave me all the time in the world I needed to heal and mourn. As I look back, it must have been to hard on him. Not just the fact that he could not make things better for me, or had to watch me become a recluse but he had to put his mourning on hold. Somehow, our relationship grew closer and we had talked like never before. My head and my heart were battling it out inside me over what I knew about God and what had happened and what I felt about God and what had happened. My head knew God didn’t cause the deaths of my children, did He know it would happen…yes. Did He want it to happen…I don’t believe so. Could He have stopped it from happening…. Yes but would I be the same person I am today without what happened to me, no I certainly would not. My heart did not understand what my head was saying and my head did not understand what my heart was saying. I had such a spiritual battle going on inside me and I didn’t tell a soul. I longed for that closeness I had with God but when I would try to pick up my bible, I would get physically ill. It took months before I could go back to church and even longer before I felt I could participate in communion without feeling like a hypocrite. I slowly started to realize that all of these times I seemed to get the strength to compose myself or be able to goodbye to each of my children, when every fiber of my being were screaming out in pain and longing for death was because God was holding me. He hadn’t left me that day when I was begging him for my children to be returned to me, he became so close to me that he carried me through this season in my life. This awful seasons that part of my wants to forget ever happened and the other part of my holds on for dear life to remember every second during that time.
I can look back now and see the roses God blessed me with during this December of my life. When I was only 8 weeks pregnant He moved us from a little town with a wonderful church family in NC. to a place called Mobile AL. We asked ourselves, “why” so often. I can tell you why now, because they have the best NICU Dr.s and nurses who would have done anything to give my children live. I wouldn’t have gotten that in NC. no one tries to save 22 weeks old babies. These people did, they are angels and I thank God for them and the memories they allow me to have of my children because they gave them the opportunity to live, even if just a short time. He gave me a wonderful husband and children who somehow understood what I was going through and allowed me to heal a little without asking too much of me. He allowed me to meet my friend Kristen online in December 2000 just after she lost her daughter. I had no one to talk to and I desperately needed to talk now. I replied to her story and she emailed me back, we became fast friends and started a grief group on Yahoo. I was able to meet wonderful women who understood and tell them all about our children and the pain I was in. In return, I was able to listen to their stories, cry and empathize with them. I would not have been able to do that had I not experienced everything I did. In January 2001 I got an email from Kristen telling me about a gal in baby center, where I met her, who had lost her triplets, 2 boys and a girl, at 22 weeks and whose story mirrored mine so closely it was scary. I emailed her, which I would never have done before, and met Amy who is now my best friend. We talked and laughed and cried and I can’t even tell you how great it was to be able to talk to a woman, who not only knew what a loss felt like but how it felt to lose triplets. As sad as I am that she lost her children, I feel so blessed we found each other to help one another through this time. I can see our children playing in heaven together, they are toddler age and having a blast. It makes me smile to think about it.
I am not the same woman I was before I was blessed with the birth and deaths of our triplets and I don’t think I want her back. I like the woman I am becoming, it is a slow road but I am a much better person for it. My relationship with God is building back up and for that I am so thankful. He could have given up on me during all the times I pushed Him away but he didn’t. He never stopped loving me and guiding me. He was my strength when I had nothing left and He put people in my life who would be able to help me climb out of this pit of despair losing a child will throw you into. I am thankful that my children lived and I was able to get to know them and spend time with them, when so many other people don’t. I didn’t think my children’s lives could make a difference to anyone but our family. I was wrong, they touched many people during their lives and now through their deaths. I have been compelled to do things to keep their memories alive, not just for our family and myself but also for others who never knew them as well. I have a web page I made in their honor that has been a source of strength and inspiration for others. We keep their pictures up in the house and don’t try to hide them away. Our children know who they are and that they have two brothers and a sister in heaven. We answer any questions they have and share our memories with them.
It is such a taboo to keep the memory of someone loved so much alive. We are taught to lock them away and not talk about them in front of others. I have started an online bracelet business that gives women the chance to be able to show off their children or family members that have gone home before them. My bracelets give them the opportunity to share with others the reason for the jewelry. I know the bracelets have been a blessing to each woman who has one. I would not have been able to do this or give others the chance to use these as a way of being able to open up to others when they normally may not have been able to do so, had I not lost my children.
I would go through this all again with the same outcome rather than not have had the opportunity to know them at all. Those three tiny babies changed my world, granted it was upside down for a while, but it is now settling back into place. I love them more than I can ever express in words. My love for them is now able to over come the pain of their loss but it took a lot of time, understanding from others and prayer. My prayer is that when you read this you will see that although the pain from the loss of one or more children is the worst pain you will ever feel in this world, but that you will see that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may take longer than you think it should to reach it but it is there and when you emerge it will be the dawn of a beautiful new day. I hope the story of my family has touched you in some special way.
UPDATE: In 2002 the Lord "urged" me to become a nurse. Not only a nurse, but a labor and delivery nurse! HELLO! That was never going to happen as far as I was concerned. Through out the year my urging became stronger and stronger and it was obvious that God's will for my life was to be just what He was telling me to do. I, of course, being the strong willed woman that I am, told (yeah right) God that He was going to have to make a few things happen if this was really His will for me. I would not go back to school until Makenna was in a pre-school. Well, if was right before school was to start in the fall and there was a waiting list miles long at the place I wanted her. I got a call the same day I put her on the list that there was an opening for her. Ok, so I went back to school and picked up a few core classes I need and when it was time to apply to a nursing school I again "told" God I was only applying to one school, the best, and not only was He going to have to get me in He was going to have to make sure I got the loans as well. I was accepted to Georgia Baptist College of Nursing, a private school, and I received all the money I needed.
As a child growing up around all of the women in my family being nurses, I swore I would NEVER do such a disgusting job! Who knew I would just fall in love with all aspects of nursing? I had a great time in nursing school, experiencing different types of nursing and discovering how I wanted my nursing practice to be. I longed for my OB rotation thinking I was really going to shine, after all that is where God wanted me to be right? It wasn't great. I enjoyed it, but not anymore than any of my other experiences. Worry began to set in, was I really hearing God correctly? Was this REALLY what He wanted me to do? He again let me know I was on the right path and for my senior practicum I one of the few students given an OB rotation. It was there and then that I absolutely and literally fell in love with Labor and Delivery!
As strange as it may sound, I felt like I was home. Me, an infertile female who watched 3 beloved and cherished children die, loves being a part of the birthing process! I graduated nursing school in Dec. 2006, passed my boards and started delivering baby's in Feb. 2007. I am able to rejoice with the miracle of life and be there for parents in death. I adore watching parents fall in love for the first time with this little baby they have just met seconds ago. I also am filled with sorrow and compassion as I watch parents say "hello" and "goodbye" in the same breath as they look at their newly born baby and count little fingers and toes as tears of pain drip down their faces onto lifeless bodies. How horrible I feel for them because I know how hard things are going to be, but how wonderful it is that I can tell them they will get through this and one day the pain will ease.
I sometimes think about how I got to this place in my life and am sad and thankful all at the same time.
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