Glimpses of GRACE {Makenna's story of Grace}

We found out last fall that we were unexpectedly expecting! The irony is that I had just made an appointment to see my OB. We were content with the 3 kids we had been blessed to bring home with us and treated everything about Holden's pregnancy and first year as if he was our last baby, but deep down I always pictured us having 4 kids to watch grow up together. Ever since we lost Isaac, my heart has been tugged towards adoption and or foster care, so I thought that would maybe be the road we would take, but Jon and I decided we would talk to my OB to see what she thought about pregnancy.

Last November we got a BIG surprise though. Neither Jon or I believed it. We've been married over 10 years and know how this pregnancy thing works...and we were pretty sure it was impossible that I was pregnant. Several days and 5 pregnancy tests later though, and I decided I should call the doctor.

In December we had our first ultrasound. The baby's heart rate was good but my progesterone levels were low and there was a small subchronic hematoma. Our due date was for mid July.

In January, we went back for another ultrasound and the clot appeared to be gone (these are very common in the 1st trimester and usually go away but because of my history we were a little concerned about it), and the baby looked good, measuring right on track at 13 weeks +1 day with a strong heartbeat in the 150's or 160's. 

We decided to do the early screening that is now offered to test the baby's dna for chromosome problems and as added bonus you can find out the gender. (It was just a simple test where they took a vile of my blood and they can get the baby's dna through that.) I wasn't sure about doing the testing because I knew that finding a chromosomal problem would not change what we did with the pregnancy, and there was a part of me that didn't want to know the gender until birth. Thankfully though, Jon was all for doing the test because of our experience with Isaac and wanting to know as much about this baby as possible in case something did happen. (With that said, Jon was not worried at all about this pregnancy.)  At the end of January, those results came back showing the baby was very low risk for any chromosomal problems and that we were having a GIRL!!! We would have been excited either way, but I had always hoped for a sister for Ellie and we loved the idea of having 2 of each (here on earth)! When the nurse called to tell me the results, I actually told her that I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the gender and so she didn't tell me, but sent a letter that had the info on it in case we wanted to know. Jon checked the mail everyday because he was convinced I would hide the letter. Lucky for him, the letter came on a Saturday and so he opened it right up (without telling me) while I was napping with Holden. Jon made a little volcano to share the gender with the kids and I.

*****(I'll add the video here when I get it from Jon's phone.)
 

The kids were so excited about their baby sister and Holden especially loved to kiss my tummy as he said "hi baby!", "luv you baby", "bye, baby". The other kids would give kisses to the baby too, but Holden did it pretty much any time he laid down next to me.

I was still pretty nervous about things because of my history of issues with pregnancy, but as I got further into the 2nd trimester, I thought maybe we were finally getting "lucky" and not going to have any issues. I have had spotting in all 5 of my previous pregnancies but I was 17 weeks and I hadn't had any. I was still feeling pretty sick, throwing up several times a week and thought I was maybe starting to feel the baby move although I wasn't quite sure. From what we knew, things were going well. When talking about the future, I still said things like "if things go okay" and "if the baby gets to come home" but I really was trying to not worry too much because I knew worry would not change the outcome. I was cherishing this tiny life inside of me and hoping for the best.

A few weeks prior, I told Jon I felt like something was wrong but I didn't know what. I didn't have any reason to believe there was anything wrong (other than my history). This wasn't exactly an uncommon thing for me to say or think as I have been sure at pretty much each ultrasound I've ever had (all 20 million of them) that they weren't going to find a heartbeat any longer but then they always have. 

That all changed on  Monday, February 8th.

It was a busy day, where I had been running from one thing to the next. I had the boys with me. Jon had an a meeting that was supposed to get out at 2, and then he was going to get Eli to bring him to a birthday party that started at 3, while I went and got Ellie from school. My appointment was at 2 and honestly I thought I'd be in and out of there. Since things had been going okay, there wasn't an ultrasound scheduled and I didn't see any need for Jon to be there (he had been at my last appointment 4 weeks prior when I had my last ultrasound.). My doctor came in and got the Doppler right out to check the baby's heartbeat. After several minutes, she said, "Esther, this is making me nervous. I'm not able to find the heartbeat. Let's see if we can get you in for an ultrasound." 

Jon had texted saying he had left his office and was on his way there to get Eli. I texted back and said they couldn't find a heartbeat and I was waiting for an ultrasound. Jon called and he said he was still 30 minutes away. He said he remembered this happening before but I couldn't remember it. He thought everything would be ok. I was still pretty optimistic thinking the baby was just hiding. He said he was praying for me and would be there soon.  I thought maybe the doctor just wasn't checking in quite the right spot because she didn't move the doppler over to the area where I thought I had been feeling the baby move the last few days.

They moved us to the ultrasound room and right away started the ultrasound. I could see the baby but as the seconds turned to minutes, I knew it wasn't good. I've had a lot of ultrasounds and have always seen the little flicker of the heart right away, followed by the tech zooming in on it and turning on the audio to hear the heart beating. The tech didn't say anything but just kept moving the wand around.

I knew what she saw, but so didn't want to believe it. 

Finally she said she was going to go get my doctor. As she closed the door behind her, I picked up Holden who was whining on the chair next to me, and told him and Eli that I didn't think the baby's heart was beating anymore and that baby sister was probably not going to get to come home with us. 

Holden just kept saying "Baby? Baby?" and Eli said, "That makes me sad. I was so excited for baby sister." 

My doctor came in and said, "Esther, I am so sorry but (the tech) is telling me she doesn't see a heartbeat and the measurements show her measuring 15 weeks and a few days." 

They turned back on the ultrasound machine and confirmed what I already knew. They showed our little baby girl, lifeless inside of me. They turned on different things to look for blood flow or movement or something like that, but there were no colors like there should have been.

The tech took the boys as my doctor talked about what this meant. She said this doesn't just happen this late into the 2nd trimester- that this was very unusual and her guess was that there was an issue with my placenta like a clot that stopped the baby from getting nutrients and oxygen. (Or something like that...things are a little fuzzy from that conversation as I tried to come to terms with what was going on.) 

I moved back to the exam room and waited for Jon to get there so we could talk more about what would happen next. Eli had been playing on my phone so I wasn't able to call Jon until the nurse brought Eli and Holden back in. It all seemed so surreal as I called Jon and told him. Thankfully he was almost there at that point. (One of the little things I am thankful for is that Jon was already on his way there.) 

Once Jon got there, my doctor came back in to talk to both of us, answer any questions, and give us our options as far as what to do next. Because of how far along I was, she suggested I be induced but said it was up to me when we did that. We ended up deciding that we would go in on Tuesday night in hopes of delivering sometime Wednesday while my doctor was on call that way she could be the one to deliver our baby girl. (With Isaac, we had a random doctor and a not great experience with her so we were really hoping to avoid that.)

We went home and I just cried. Somehow I didn't show any emotion at the doctor, but once home I just cried and cried. It was just Holden and I because Jon had taken Eli to get Ellie from school. Poor Holden kept running to the bathroom to get more toilet paper to wipe my eyes. He kept hugging me and saying "mommy otay?".  At one point, I was crying so much, it scared Holden and he ran to the bathroom crying himself. Poor Holden! I almost started laughing because I felt so bad and that helped me to get my act together.

The next day and a half were a blur. I just kept saying that I didn't want to do this again. None of it. I didn't want to deliver a baby that didn't get to come home. I didn't want to go through the grief process again. Wasn't there a way just to skip all of this? Run away and pretend like none of this was happening? While dropping the kids off at school, one of the kids suggested we just pack a bag and head to Florida. That sounded like a good idea to me and if I thought I wouldn't have had to eventually deal with what was going on, I'm pretty sure I would have taken the kids up on their idea.

I spent a little time Tuesday prayer journaling and writing to our little girl. I poured out my heart to God. I told Him how sad and broken I was and how much I did not want to do this again and how I so did not want to face that day or the next or next. But then I wrote this:

My one hope is you, Jesus. I know you wont leave me. I know you are still good and that I can come to the other side of this still praising you, because you are good, even when this life sucks. I know you are love even when I'm feeling so much hurt and pain. So I will praise you, even when I am paralyzed in grief over once again not getting to watch one of our babies grow up. Jesus, show up today and tomorrow and the next day as I can't do this. Carry me. Make yourself known. Show your goodness even in this pain............Give us just what we need for each moment. Spare us where you can. Show grace to us even in the hard.....

 Tuesday night came and I finally made myself throw things in a bag. I had avoided packing all day because then maybe I didn't really have to go to the hospital. Life was mostly it's normal crazy self with the kids but we gathered them up to talk to them about what we should name baby sister before we left. Jon asked them what they thought of Lucy but Ellie kept saying, "I thought we were naming her Makenna Grace." Jon had Ellie whisper what name she wanted in his ear and then had Eli whisper what her middle name was going to be. Of course, Ellie said Makenna and Eli said Grace. So Makenna Grace it would be.

Jon and I told the kids goodbye and left them with my parents. (Another one of the things that we were thankful for that "just happened to work out", was that my parents were in town for a conference so once we got the news on Monday, we knew they would be able to stay with the kids while we were in the hospital. It stunk that we needed them, but we were thankful that we didn't have to figure out who would be able to watch the kids. This was one of God's grace's to us.) Ellie got sad for the first time since we had told her about things. Up to that point, she had showed pretty much no emotion. I'm pretty sure that is how she deals with things, kind of pretending that everything is okay, and not really trying to think about what is going on, even though she had been so excited about having a sister. She is pretty guarded with her emotions (hmmm....wonder where she gets that?!) and said she was just sad about us leaving.

We had talked about stopping at a store on the way to the hospital to find something special to give the kids from their baby sister, like the Isaac bears we had given them from Isaac. Because we had procrastinated leaving though, we were already running late for my 7:45pm check in time so instead we went straight to the hospital. As we walked into the hospital, we were passing the gift shop when I spotted some cute grey and pink elephants at the front of the store. I mentioned to Jon that those were cute and maybe we could get those to give the kids from their baby sister. He liked them too, and we decided to buy them right then. If you know me, you know I am so indecisive, but the minute I saw those elephants, I knew those were perfect. Those would be our Makenna elephants.

We got checked in at labor and delivery (Ugh, not going to lie. It sucks having to go there when you are being induced for a baby that you know you are not bringing home. And leaving empty handed...well, that is the worst. All things I already knew from doing this 3 years ago.) and met our nurse for the night. We asked our questions, the main one being if they were going to confirm that there was no heartbeat. The nurse looked at me like I was crazy, and I felt kind of crazy because I knew what I saw on the screen the day before. At the same time, this was not me asking out of denial (although I'm pretty sure the nurse thought it was). It was me asking because I knew I would question this later and did not want to blame myself after the fact, wondering if my baby's heart really had stopped or if I had caused my baby to die by being induced at 17 weeks. Jon had not been in the room when the ultrasound was done on Monday, and because of shock, and because of how I tend to be in the moment of shock, I had just accepted the reality of what was told to me (and what I was pretty sure I saw) and hadn't asked them to make sure one more time or anything. I felt all this weight, that since Jon hadn't been there to see for himself. that if they were wrong, I was killing our baby. Also, I think part of me felt like I was ruling out the possibility of God doing a miracle by being induced without checking for a heartbeat. Afterall, I do believe that God, the creator of life, is capable of anything. The nurse told me that there was nothing she could do that night, but I could wait until morning to start the induction after an ultrasound. She reviewed my doctors notes from that day and reiterated that the notes said the baby was only measuring 15 weeks and a few days even though I was now 17 weeks, and that there was no heartbeat found. Jon and I talked some more, and he assured me that he was not going to blame me for any of this, and he believed what the doctor had said. And we both knew that you can hold out hope for a miracle, but at some point, you really do have to face the reality of what has happened. So, if we waited for an ultrasound in the morning, then what? Face the reality on the screen again and then start the induction process then? At this point, we decided we just had to move forward with the induction because delaying it was not going to do anything but delay the inevitable. (Maybe I sound crazy, but I still think it makes sense to me that they would automatically show mom's that are being induced, that induction is absolutely necessary in situations like this right before they start.)

Anyways, finally around 9 or 10 that night, they gave me the meds to start the induction. I asked for sleeping meds also, because I did not want to be awake all night wondering if that was the moment the baby was going to come out. Thanks to that sleeping pill, I slept fairly well, even with the nurse coming and doing vitals and giving me several more doses of citatec. Around 6am I got up to use the restroom before getting my next dose of citatec and shortly after that is when I felt like labor was really starting. Jon laid in bed with me for a while as I started to get more anxious, knowing we were probably only a few hours from delivery.

Shift change happened at 7 and we got to meet our new nurse. I have to say that God answered our prayers with our nurse, Courtney. Contractions really started picking up and I was asking for pain meds as we met our new nurse. I had decided against an epidural since I've had bad experiences the last 2 times so my doctor said there were pain meds they could give. I didn't really know what I was getting, but all of a sudden I tried to jump out of bed. I was not prepared for the way that the pain med (apparently it was morphine) made me feel. I definitely did not like it one bit! I'm sure it must have helped take the edge off of the pain but I definitely felt the contractions as they picked up. It's such a weird feeling to be in labor, knowing your baby has already passed. Unlike my labor with Isaac though, this time, I was just ready for it to be over. With Isaac, I so desperately wanted labor to stop and most definitely didn't want to push him out. This time though, I knew our baby girl was already gone and although I was anxious about her "just coming out" I was ready get it over with. 

As I labored, Jon turned on worship music. Our nurse came back in shortly after and said something like, "I wanted to let you know that we have something in common. We listen to the same music. And while I haven't been through this, 4 years ago yesterday, I was diagnosed with breast cancer so I know what it's like to go through these hard times." 

Any time our nurse would step out, I was convinced that the baby was coming so she ended up staying in the room with me most of the morning. She was so encouraging and let me know that she was praying for me at different times. It definitely helped bring so much peace to the room, knowing our nurse shared our faith. She was one of His acts of GRACE that He showed us that day, giving us a kind, compassionate nurse, who shared the love of our Father.

A little before 9 am I was sure that delivery was close. I was feeling so much pressure and wasn't sure how much longer I could wait as my contractions were right on top of each other. 

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The above is where I stopped writing in the days after coming home from the hospital on February 10th. I wish I would have kept writing before, but every time I went to write, I felt like He was telling me that "now" (as in a few months ago) was not the time to share all the details. I would go to write, and instead felt silence. Finally one day I went to write, and these were the first words about Makenna that I felt like He was telling me to share. 

The details aren't as clear to me, but I've been praying for space to be able to finish writing out Makenna's birth, to help me process, and even more so, because I don't want to forget any of it. I figured that space would come in the form of being unable to sleep at 5am or wide awake at night, but what do you know, He gave me a whole weekend at home by myself. This has not happened since before Ellie was born six and a half  years ago.  So here I am, four months later, writing out all the details from the day that gave us almost all of the memories that we will ever have of our 2nd little girl and even though it was a day fill ed with sadness, it was also a day filled with much GRACE, our Makenna Grace.

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 I continued to have strong contractions along with a lot of bleeding. I felt like delivery was close and could happen at any moment. I knew Makenna would be small so I didn't have to be all the way dilated and I kept feeling like she was coming. My nurse was so kind, willing to sit in the room and just wait with me as I was convinced that I was delivering anytime she left the room.

A little before 9 am I could not handle the pressure anymore, and told my nurse that I really felt like I needed to push and didn't think I could wait much longer. She called my doctor who came soon after. I was only 4 or 5 or 6 centimeters dilated but my doctor said that if I thought I needed to push then we could go ahead and deliver since my contractions had been strong and consistent and the baby was small. (WARNING! TMI COMING!!!! MIGHT WANT TO SKIP!  (For some reason I can laugh about this and want to remember all the details before they become more blurry.)

I started pushing and I quickly realized that I REALLY needed to pee! I hadn't been up in several hours and was being pumped full of fluids. I told my doctor that I couldn't push because I was afraid I was going to pee, but I was afraid to get up and go to the bathroom because I was afraid that  the baby was going to come out into the toilet. My doctor said that it was okay, just to push and if I peed right there (YIKES! See, TMI! Sorry!) that was okay.  Both options felt terrible but since my first baby I had miscarried in the toilet, it was a very real fear and possibility. So, I pushed. (And peed....and apologized a million times because there was A LOT of pee! Ugh.. I probably should have asked for a bucket or a folly, but the contractions and pressure were bad and I really just wanted this over.) I pushed hard. At least I felt like I was. Everything was different this time since I didn't have an epidural. I could feel everything and although it was obviously not the same as birthing a "normal" full term baby, the contractions and pressure were strong and I wasn't sure what it was supposed to feel like delivering a 17 week old baby.

With Isaac, I distinctly remember everything within me not wanting to push. This time though, I pushed with all my might. This is the part I had been dreading and I just wanted it over. 

Honestly, I have no idea how long I pushed before Makenna came out, but The SON shined brightly through the window, giving the room a bright glow and at 9:01 am, it was over. I had pushed her out. (The nurse asked us if we noticed how right when Makenna was delivered the sun beamed so brightly  in.)

They placed Makenna in my arms and I held my tiny baby girl. You could see her eyes, nose, ears, mouth. She had long arms with 10 teeny tiny fingers and long legs with 10 tiny toes. She was in pretty rough shape though, especially compared to Isaac (which was kind of what I was expecting she would look like), as her heart had probably stopped at least a week or two before.

I thought the worst was over, but it  wasn't because I still had to deliver the placenta. 

My contractions pretty much stopped as soon as I delivered Makenna, and we spent the next forever pushing, and prying and digging, and praying, and pushing and pulling trying to get the placenta out. It was not good at all and I was losing a lot of blood. I felt light headed and terrible and was getting pretty frustrated that the placenta would not deliver. There was talks of doing a D & C and I was upset. I didn't question God too much that day, but during this time, I started begging God for mercy. Please God. Wasn't it enough that I had to deliver my lifeless baby? Can't I catch a break on any of this? Delivery and a D & C?  No.   None of us wanted it. My Doctor got called for 2 deliveries during this time. I think she may have gone and delivered a baby right after I had pushed out Makenna while they gave me more meds to try and get the contractions to start again but I don't quite remember. I do remember that my doctor kept getting calls as she was trying to pry out the placenta while I pushed and she was quite frustrated as she told them that she couldn't come the second time. I was begging God to please just let it come out and eventually it did, although it was not quite in one piece. This was disappointing for 2 reasons. The first is that my doctor was sending in the placenta to pathology to see if they could find out why Makenna's heart stopped and she thought the placenta was probably the cause, but because it didn't come out in one piece, it would be hard for them to tell. (Which ended up being the case. They couldn't give us any information based on the condition of the placenta.) Secondly, there was a risk that some of the placenta could been stuck inside of me and that can cause all sorts of complications. (In which it possibly did cause some. I had bad headaches and light headedness for several weeks which resulted in more ultrasounds, doctors appointments, more talks of a D & C and lots of waiting.)  

As soon as the placenta was out, my doctor had to rush out to deliver a baby. After she left, the nurse told me that she was praying so hard that the placenta would deliver so that I didn't have to have a D & C. The words she shared with me were encouraging and another one of those GRACE moments of the day. God had shown GRACE to me by giving me a nurse that was praying alongside of Jon and I, and a doctor that was determined. Many doctors probably would have given up long before, especially with the crazy day my doctor was having, but she didn't.

I held Makenna and tried to rest as I felt pretty miserable. I tried to sit up and almost passed out as I continued to lose a lot of blood. They had to change my gown and all of the sheets several times as the blood kept pouring out of me. There were talks of blood transfusions but thankfully, finally the bleeding started to lessen.

I wanted to keep holding Makenna, but because I was feeling so bad, I had to give her to Jon for a while until I started feeling better.

A little bit later, the bereavement nurse came and got Makenna to make our keepsakes, dress her, and take pictures of her. They took hand and foot prints and dressed her in a white dress with a pink bow at the collar with a white hat. She  looked like a little angel when the nurse wheeled her back in, this time a pink bear nestled around her in addition to the Makenna elephants we had placed next to her. (I can't say enough about what a different experience we had with the bereavement staff this time. They were kind and compassionate and did everything they could to help us.)

We took more pictures with Makenna and the Makenna elephants that we had purchased the previous night, we told her how much we loved her, sang her songs, told her about her siblings, read verses to her, and sang praises to our Savior, while holding our precious little girl.

There was a very real sense of peace in that delivery room that day. He surrounded us with His presence and made it so very clear that He was with us.

I laid back to try and rest while I held my baby, knowing that once I let her go, that would be it. I tried to take in everything about Makenna that I could. We cherished our time with her, but we knew she wasn't really there, made all the more obvious by the way her body was rapidly deteriorating. Finally we made the decision to say goodbye before she got any worse. I was discharged that evening and got to go home to the kids where we brought them their Makenna elephants from their baby sister. I hated going home empty handed, but was glad that the delivery was behind me.

My journal entry/letter to Makenna two days later reiterates the peace we felt in that delivery room. It says:

February 12, 2016

Psalm 91:4 "He will cover you with his feathers, you will take refuge under His wings. His faithfulness with be a protective shield."

My Makenna Grace, somehow we are figuring out how to navigate these days of sadness without you. We miss you so much. We had so many hopes and dreams for you, sweet girl. Our hearts miss you deeply and I'm filled with such sadness as I figure out what life without you here means. I'll always cherish the precious moments you wiggled inside of me and never forget holding you in my arms. Your life is a gift, even if you couldn't stay in our arms for more than a moment. I held you and cherished you. I sang to you and told you how loved you are. I kissed your fragile body and let me tears fall on you. I love you, baby girl. My heart longs for the day I get to hold you again. I am sure your brother helped welcome you into heaven and you've known nothing but our Savior's perfect love. Ever since we found out your heart had stopped, the song lyrics from an old hymn have played nonstop in my head. It says. "Because He loves, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives every fear is gone...." While there has been a deep sadness, those words have brought comfort. Without this hope, I can't imagine going on, but because He lives, I know I can face another day.

The peace your daddy and I felt as we held you is honestly nothing short of a miracle. We very clearly felt God's love- a peace that really passed all understanding. It made no sense to us how we could hold your lifeless body and praise our Creator. As I held you, Psalm 91:4 came to mind and I had such a strong sense that you truly had found refuge under His wings. I could just tell you were safe in our Father's arms. As much as I want you here with me, I'm so thankful for the ways I've been reminded and shown that you are safe, perfect and whole. With my whole being, I believe you are safe in His arms. Somehow I know that our God is good, even when I'm so very sad for what we've lost. I miss you and long for the day I get to hold all my babies together. To kiss each of you and let you know how very much I love you. Until then, I'm confident that our Jesus has already provided you with all that you need. A love more perfect than even your mommy is capable of.

Makenna Grace, God has shown us his many graces even as our hearts mourn for you. I am confident we will continue to see his grace poured out to us as we mourn your life while also seeking our Savior. Yesterday I wasn't feeling well and starting to feel defeated with all this stomach pain. I opened my Bible and looked up Grace. The first verse I read was Romans 16:20. It says, "The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet. The grace of our Lord Jesus be with you. As soon as I read that, my stomach pain went away. I am confident that it was the grace of our Jesus that was with me in that moment..[...].... Lord, cover me with your feathers. Give me refuge under your wings. 

 As you can see, our Makenna has given us many glimpses of His GRACE. She allowed us that day, and many days since, to experience His peace, His love, and His presence in very real and tangible ways.  The other day I was thinking to myself, wondering if I could go back in time and have had none of this happen, would I do it? My first thought was yes, of course I would! I would have wished to never have gotten pregnant again, leaving Holden as my last memories of pregnancy. Pregnancy loss stings, and sucks and I'm tired of being the "grieving lady".  But as I sat there thinking a moment longer, I thought about all that we would have missed out on if we had never had our Makenna, even for those mere moments. And it was then, that I knew I would do it all over again to have those moments with my baby, and even more so, to have these encounters of GRACE, with my Savior. (I think it goes without saying that obviously I would have chosen to have Makenna healthy and whole and living if given the choice. And no, this does not mean that I am wanting to get pregnant now.) His GRACE is enough for me. It can handle my broken pieces. My mess. My baggage. His GRACE is putting me back together, even more wholly than before.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 2:9-10