Looking back, God tried to prepare us for this traumatic
experience a long time ago. As we read an article together about child loss in
the Ensign (a magazine the LDS church
publishes) when we were first married, we both received personal revelation
that someday, we were going to lose a child. My husband had a dream once that
we would have twins, a boy and a girl, and they would be born okay, but something
would happen to the boy. We weren't sure what to take from that dream, but
since he had it, I have always been afraid of losing a boy. We had our first
baby, a little girl, with no complications. She is a beautiful healthy six year
old now. When she was almost three, we had another baby, a little boy. He was
also born with no complications, although I was worried the entire pregnancy
that something was going to happen. Then, one morning in August of 2013, I had
an overwhelming feeling come over me that we needed to have another child. So,
we started trying and found out in December of that year that we were
expecting. We told family and very close friends, but kept it a secret from
everyone else until I was about 18 weeks along and we knew we were having a
boy. We were very excited, but also very nervous about everything. My husband
was finishing up graduate school, we decided that he should pursue teaching
through Teach for America, we found out we'd be moving to Louisiana for said
job, and we found out he would need to go to Mississippi for training for 6
weeks. We felt it was best for me to stay in Utah with our two kids at each of
our parents houses for a certain amount of time over the summer. This would
allow me to keep the same doctor, insurance, etc. We had planned for my husband
and our dads to move our belongings to Lousiana on July 17. I would get induced
on August 6 and fly to Louisiana with our kids and mother-in-law on August 13.
My husband was going to come home for a brief visit from July 12-17. We had
everything all planned out.
He did come home, but things did not go as planned. I had
felt anxiety throughout my entire pregnancy, but I attributed it to all of the
unknowns that were coming our way. I didn't really think I would lose a child.
I had kind of written off the personal revelation we had received, and thought
all our kids would be fine.
I was very wrong. While my husband was home, on July 14, I
started feeling minor contractions in the morning. I wasn't sure if they were
contractions, braxton hicks contractions, or just gas pains. So, we decided to
take the kids to go see How to Train Your Dragon 2. They got stronger and
stronger. As we were driving to the movie, though, they started to come more
frequently. We were almost the only people in the theater, only one other
family with a child about my sons age and a newborn were there. My son
ran around most of the time, and since I had taken my daughter to see the movie
earlier, I chased him around. I had a couple longer, stronger
contractions and a few small, short ones while we were there. My husband
started to get worried. We went to Trader Joe's after that to get some
groceries for dinner. The contractions started getting closer and harder
so we started timing them. We timed them for a bit when we got home then
called the doctor's office to see what the doctor wanted us to do, since I was
only 35 weeks and 5 days. He told us it sounded like labor, and it may
not be able to be stopped so to head to the hospital.
We asked my brother-in-law to meet us at the hospital to take
the kids. The nurse took us to the delivery room and my husband took our
kids out to my brother-in-law. During the time he was gone, the nurse was
trying to find Maximus' heartbeat with the monitor they put on your belly.
She could not find it and said she was going to go get the ultrasound
machine to find it easier. I asked her if I should be concerned, and she
said no. At this point, I started having a lot of anxiety and fear. Why
couldn't she find the heartbeat? I'd never had that happen with any of my kids.
She came in with another nurse and the ultrasound machine. The nurse
looked around for a few minutes and could not find a heartbeat. She said
there was a possibility she missed it, since she was not an expert, and that a
doctor would come look as well.
My husband walked into the room after she told me this, and I
just looked at him and started crying. He asked me what was wrong and I
told him they couldn't find a heartbeat. He just looked so stunned.
He started calling people to let them know that it appeared that Maximus
didn't have a heartbeat and was dead. The doctor came in and looked
around. She confirmed that there was no heartbeat. She also showed
us that there was fluid in his lungs, showing that he had probably been dead
for a couple of days. She left to call my doctor and talk to him on the
phone about the next steps. I bawled for quite some time. My
husband and I prayed and felt a little peace. He called everyone that
needed to be called. My mom showed up soon after.
During this entire time, I continued to have contractions and
continued crying. I felt very numb and didn’t notice many of the
contractions, even though they were getting pretty intense. I texted a
close friend of mine, who I knew would be one of the only people to understand
what I was going through, because she delivered twins stillborn. She
called and cried with me. The nurse came back in so I told her I'd call
back later. The nurse took all my admitting information and put the contraction
monitor on my belly. My friend texted me to see how things were going and
whether my husband was coming. She didn't realize he was home for a
couple of days, the first tender mercy of the Lord. I don't know how I
would have gotten through everything without my husband there. He made
many decisions that I felt incapable to make and decisions that I didn't want
to make. She asked if she could bring me a gift and stop by later.
I told her yes. Little did I know, she would later arrive right as
I delivered baby Max. I feel this was another tender mercy of the lord.
My doctor called to discuss my options. He said we
could deliver vaginally or through c-section. I elected to deliver
vaginally so I would not have to recover from a c-section. He said he
would be in after his last two patients at the office. Labor progressed
quickly. My husband left for a little while to tell the kids what was
going on. I don't think I would have been able to handle that, and I'm so
grateful that my husband did that for us. He is so strong, and I don't
think I would've been able to do it.
Right as he got back, I got the information on mortuaries
from the nurse. We asked my mom what her opinion was between two
mortuaries. She said one of them creeped her out a little, and as soon as
she described the building, I agreed. So, my husband called Lindquist
Mortuary. As he started talking to them, we found out that they feel it
is their duty to provide everything possible for no cost in situations like
ours. They take care of the funeral directing, embalming, the casket,
everything for free for stillborn babies, another tender mercy. We had no
idea how we would pay for everything; this gave us a way. My grandparents
also had purchased 16 plots for our family, and we were able to use one of them
to bury our little Maximus.
Soon after my husband got back, my water broke. Things
went really quickly from that point. I started having the urge to push.
The nurse came in when we told her that, as did my doctor. He
seemed to have shown up just in time. We later found out that he arrived
just as my water broke. They set up the room for delivery. My
doctor asked if I wanted something to take the edge off the pain since I had
not taken anything. I agreed, and the nurse soon brought in Phentonol.
It made me feel really dizzy and loopy, but I think it gave me just
enough relief that I was able to deliver Max into the world without any other
medication. He was in the breech position. I pushed for about 3-4 minutes
and Maximus was delivered. I delivered stillborn Maximus James into
the world on July 14, 2014 at 7:07 PM in Salt Lake City. I feel
blessed that I didn't tear at all, another tender mercy.
I was still a little out of it from the Phentonol, and didn't
realize at first that the nurse had put baby Max on my chest. When I
realized he was there, I didn't know what to think. Honestly, I was
somewhat appalled at what he looked like. I didn't realize how fragile
his skin would be, and his skin was very dark. I expected more of a
lifelike baby boy. I had a really hard time looking at him. I feel
a little guilty about my feelings, but I'm sure other moms have felt the same
way. My friend showed up right after Maximus was born still. She gave us
a beautiful willow tree figurine of an infant, and a book. I'm so grateful she
was there. It brought me some peace to remember that she knew how I was feeling.
Another tender mercy seemed to have appeared at this time.
My original nurse was off duty and another nurse came on duty. She
had also lost a child, 16 years ago. She said the pain never really
leaves, and that's okay. She was just the nurse we needed to get through
those next rough hours. She encouraged us to take lots of pictures, since
we elected not to have a photographer come in. We took some more
pictures. She asked us if we were interested in getting some molds of
Maximus' feet and hands. We told her yes. She said it sounded like
someone wouldn't be able to do it until Tuesday evening. I later found
out that a woman and her husband went to the hospital late Monday evening and
did the molds for us. We met her at the mortuary Wednesday, and she told
us she had lost a Maximus too. She also took more pictures of Maximus Monday
night. I am so grateful she did that. The ones we took weren't as good as I had
hoped.
After we took pictures and held Maximus a few more minutes,
we decided we were ready to let go and Sara covered Maximus' body and put him
in a refrigerator until the mortuary could pick him up. I cried a lot.
It was really hard to let him go, and I feel like every time I think
about him, I have to let him go a little more. My heart feels shattered
every time I think about him. My dad gave me a priesthood blessing after
Maximus was taken out of the room. I knew at that moment that my husband
and I will get the chance to see Max grow up and raise him as long as we keep
the commandments and stay true to our covenants. My dad, or Heavenly
Father, rather, told us that Maximus was being taken care of by those who had
gone on before us. I immediately thought of my great grandma. She
loved children so much, and spoiled them and loved them to her fullest.
She was very dear to me, and I truly feel like she's taking care of him
until my husband and I can get there.
The next couple hours are a blur. I had requested that
I be able to go home after some observation. They told me I would need to
stay for four hours to make sure I didn't hemorrhage or anything. I got
to go home after four hours, and I'm so grateful for that. I really
didn't want to spend the night in the hospital, another tender mercy of the
Lord. We got home around 11:30. I cried again before trying to fall
asleep. It took me a long time to fall asleep. I would drift off
and jerk awake wondering if I was bleeding too much. I was really worried
about that, because I didn't want to leave my husband alone in the world.
I finally used the bathroom and saw that I was hardly bleeding, and I was
comforted a little and able to fall asleep around 1:45 in the morning.
Tuesday was a really hard day. We made an appointment
with the mortuary for 11. The funeral director informed us once again
that they didn't charge anything for their services or the casket, because they
feel it is their civic duty. When he told us that he usually charges over
$5,000 for an adult, I was extremely touched and overwhelmed at the kindness
the mortuary shows. I'm not sure how much the casket usually costs, but
I'm sure it's also a pretty penny. We filled out the paperwork and saw
the casket. It was so tiny. It hurt me to think of Maximus again.
The funeral director let us know that we could come view him the next day
before the burial, but that we may not want others to see him, because of how
fragile his skin would be and the point of decay his body might be at.
I cried again as we left. It was really hard. The
rest of that day is a blur. My husband's parents came down. The kids knew
something was wrong and were off. My husband and our dads unloaded the
baby things off the trailer and repacked it to make it more even and secure.
I felt like we should pay it forward with all the baby things we had, so
I gave them to one of my dearest friends, who was having a little boy of her
own soon. My mom accidentally threw our keys away, but we found them.
I really don't remember what else we did that day. I fell asleep
quickly, though, and was very grateful for that.
Wednesday morning we all got ready for the funeral. My
husband's parents came around 9:45, then realized they couldn't find their
keys. My first reaction was to get very angry. I was so annoyed
they had misplaced their keys. We eventually found that they had
accidentally thrown them away, just as ours had accidentally got thrown away
the day before. We still arrived at the mortuary on time. We met
the woman who made our molds there. My friend told us later that people
who have suffered similar losses do this for therapy, to try to heal and help
others heal. She took some pictures of us with Maximus. I'm glad we
have some from that day to remember him. I struggled to hold him, but she
encouraged me to. He had decayed quite a bit and looked like a mummy.
It was really disheartening. Somehow I thought he would look a
little better, though I'm not sure why I believed that. We elected not to
let the kids see him, even though my daughter really wanted to. We didn't
want her to get scared. We did end up showing her one picture from the
hospital later in the day, and she really enjoyed looking at the molds of his
hands and feet. I cried a lot. I held him for a little while; I
looked at his beautiful little hands. My husband and I spent a moment
alone with him, then the funeral director came in and helped us seal the casket.
We covered his little face and body with the blanket, then again with the
covering on the casket. He put the lid on and sealed it. It was so
hard to let him go again. It hurts me so bad. My husband carried
the casket to the van. Then we left to the cemetery.
When we got to the cemetery, he also carried the casket to
the grave. I'm so grateful that the funeral director offered that
privilege to my husband, because he wanted to. Many people showed up to
support us at the cemetery, my grandparents, my aunt, uncle and cousins, my
husband's uncle, aunt and cousin, some old family friends, our Bishop, and some
of my parents' neighbors. My husband asked our dads to each read a scripture.
I don't recall what they were now, so I'll have to ask them. My husband
gave the dedicatory prayer, and it was beautiful. I don't remember much
of what he said, but I felt comfort again knowing he was being taken care of
and that we'd see him again. The Bishop also shared a few words,
including a poem that was read at his father's funeral. Everyone hugged
us and gave us words of comfort and love. Everyone started filtering away
until it was me, my husband, and my dad left at the cemetery. My husband
and I spent a few more minutes there. We said goodbye to Maximus and
drove away, one of the hardest things I've ever done, if not the hardest.
I'm so grateful for the love and support so many people have
given us through this process. I felt some closure after the funeral.
I know it will never feel complete and that I'll ache for little Maximus,
but I did feel a little better then, and I'm so grateful that my husband was
home for all this. I don't know what I would've done without him.
That evening, my doctor called to tell us what the tests had
found from the placenta. I had chorioamnionitis. Basically, an
infection got in the amniotic fluid and the chorion layer as well. It
spread to the placenta and essentially caused little heart attacks throughout
the placenta. Maximus was not getting the nourishment or oxygen that he
needed.
After doing some research, I realized that I had some of the
signs of chorioamnionitis. I thought I had been having some urinary
incontinence the last couple weeks, because every time I used the bathroom and
stood up, a little fluid came out. I now think that I somehow got a
microtear in the amniotic sac and that an infection of some sort, probably
Group B Strep (which I tested positive for earlier in pregnancy) or Bacterial
Vaginosis, made it's way into the sac. I also had an ache under my right ribcage
area. I had been afraid of it being gall bladder problems, or that
perhaps it was round ligament pain. Instead, it was uterine fundal
tenderness, a symptom of chorioamnionitis. I also felt like my heart rate
was high, but it wasn't when I was at the doctor's office. I didn't
experience the obvious symptom of a fever. I had told my doctor about the
ache, but he didn't seem concerned about it. Everything else was fine.
The baby's heartbeat was normal, as was mine. There really was no
way I could've known something was wrong. I don't know that extensive
testing would've been done to see if something was wrong anyway. Many of
these are common concerns for pregnant women.
I read also that chorioamnionitis often brings complications
with it, such as pneumonia, meningitis, cerebral palsy and other brain defects
in the infant. I think I had been infected for at least a month, so I'm
pretty sure Maximus would have been born with severe disabilities, something
I'm not sure my husband and I would've really struggled with. If that's
the truth, I'm grateful that Maximus didn't have to suffer through a very
difficult life. Deep down, I think he would've had those disabilities.
I think the Lord spared us and him a lot more hardship and pain than we
realize. Maybe someday we'll understand.
I had felt so anxious throughout the whole pregnancy, though.
I think deep down I knew something was wrong, or that something was going
to happen. My husband left the next morning with our dads to move our stuff to
Louisiana. It was so hard to see him go again, especially after our
hardship and all the grief we were feeling. Some of our stuff got ruined,
because of rain they encountered on the journey. It was hard to hear
that, after everything else we'd gone through that week, but we still felt like
it was the right place for us. My husband told me that Sunday that he
felt like our ward is where we need to be. I had high hopes for
Louisiana, and was very scared and anxious. I didn't know what to expect,
and I was afraid of being alone. I struggled with the fact that I would
be leaving everyone and everything I knew behind, that I would be leaving
little Maximus' grave.
I so look forward to the opportunity that my husband and I
will get to raise him. I love him so much, even though I didn't have much
of a chance to get to know him. I pray for strength to cope with
everything and find comfort still.
I am so grateful for the tender mercies we did receive from
the Lord. I also just remembered that the night before the graveside
service, we read about Christ’s crucifixion and burial in the scriptures with
my daughter, and the night of the graveside service, we read about his
resurrection. How fitting that we just happened to be reading about the
things we needed to hear that week. My daughter told me that Maximus has
white hair. I don’t know if she’s seen him or something, or if it’s just
her imagination, but I’d like to remember what she said. She thought that
the molds of his hands and feet were his actual hands and feet, but I think we
got through to her that they’re not. I may have to explain that again.
She has had a hard time with this too. She has cried everyday about
how she’s misses Maximus. She is such a sweet spirit, and I hope I can be
a good mom to both her and and my son, and someday Maximus. This whole
experience makes me want to be a better person, and to be more Christlike so
that I can for sure see Maximus again someday. I think my husband feels
the same way. Now to figure out how to be better parents, better spouses,
and better followers of Christ.
I wrote most of this post in the days following all of this,
so I could remember the details. Now, it's almost two years later, and I'm
actually posting it for the world to see. In 11 days, it will be Maximus' 2nd
angelversary. Last year, we moved back from Louisiana at the beginning of June.
We struggled a lot there, and did not enjoy most of our experiences there. I
look back and realize we made some amazing friends, and we did have good times
there. But, overall, we were unhappy there. I think it was good for us to move
somewhere completely different while we healed a little. But, I'm very glad to
be back. I didn't have a ton of emotions on Max's angelversary last year, but I
think it's going to be more of a struggle this year. Last year, I think I had
buried my grief and pain, but this year, I've had time to really think about
him more, and try to process some of my emotions. My next post talks a bit more
about how I'm doing now. I hope that my story brings some hope to others. There
are things to be grateful for, even during the hardest times in our lives. I
know my Savior lives. I know he knows how I feel and what I've been through. I
know the Atonement has healing power in our lives. I feel that it has worked on
me, even though I wasn't super aware of it at the time. I know He loves us. I
know we can be a family forever, and that someday, we'll get to see him again.
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