It was September 2003, it had only been three and a half months since our June wedding when we took the test, you know the one that if it is positive will change your life forever kind of test. Yep, we were going to have a baby! Yikes! We were sort of surprised, but not really....you know what I mean. We went to the doctor and found out we were roughly five or six weeks pregnant.
We were scared at first with excitement blended in with the "Oh my gosh" feelings. We had both seen the studies that tell of marriages with a few years under their belts fare better than those that only have a year or less. So yeah, we were scared of the odds, but determined to beat them. We knew that we were to Trust God. This was something he kept reminding us both of since the beginning of this pregnancy and this is what we set out to do.
The "Oh my gosh" feelings were short lived and turned into, "We're having a baby!" feelings. We were excited, we were going to be parents of our first child. I was going to be a dad! We told everyone of our big news, my in-laws celebrated with us, giving us gifts, I bought gifts and maternity clothes for my awesome wife and did several other things along the way to celebrate the creation of life that grew within Regina.
It wasn't long until we were able to hear the heartbeat, our baby was like 10 or 11 weeks and next we were able to see the baby on a portable ultrasound machine, it was so cool! I couldn't believe it, we were going to have a baby!
Then, we had something develop that worried us which sent us to the doctor for an exam. She told us something didn't look right and scheduled us for a more involved ultrasound for a few days later. The baby's amniotic sac was way smaller than it should of been, which was very concerning to the doctor. We were scared once again, what was wrong? Was everything going to be okay? We were praying like mad asking God for his help and trying to remain positive.
I remember the "more involved" ultrasound. This time it was on the big screen for us. I remember both of us just being in awe as we saw his arms and legs moving and his heart beating with the swishing sound of his heart racing over what seemed like the surround sound of the speakers. It was cool and I was somewhat speechless. I was already proud of this baby and we were definitely attached by this point. We wanted this baby and were hoping for good news. As this ultrasound was a week or so later we were hoping things had changed, but they hadn't and we were told they were just going to closely monitor us. I remember sitting on the floor in the exam room feeling my heart sink as I felt our hopes for a healthy baby diminish.
Then it happened, it was the evening of November 19, 2003 only a few hours after we had just been to the doctor, Regina went into labor (although we didn't realize it at first). She was at home while I was at a meeting that I volunteered for. Some friends, Beth and Jill came over and sat with Regina while she tried to get over the pain. I came home, we went to bed, only to wake up to make a fast drive to St. John's...we realized something terrible was wrong.
We were met there by our close friend Heather to see us through what might be coming. It had only been like 30 minutes or less since we arrived at the hospital when our baby was delivered spontaneously. It happened fast so fast...the kind of fast that you don't know what happened kind of fast. There were screams, lots of tears and battered hearts in those moments of life slipping away from us. I couldn't breath, the room was spinning and I thought I was going to pass out....I had to open the bathroom door and call for help...this was our real life moment...the moment...a moment neither one of us will ever forget. Time of death 12:15 a.m. November 20, 2003... 14 weeks old.
My uncle arrived shortly after this and with his and Heather's help we stumbled through the next couple of hours. The pastoral staff of the hospital came and explained the grief process to us, he explained the grief process could take up to two years with anger being a feeling that would likely be experienced by both of us at some point. I didn't believe that, I could only feel sadness for Regina, myself and for our lost little one.
We were scared at first with excitement blended in with the "Oh my gosh" feelings. We had both seen the studies that tell of marriages with a few years under their belts fare better than those that only have a year or less. So yeah, we were scared of the odds, but determined to beat them. We knew that we were to Trust God. This was something he kept reminding us both of since the beginning of this pregnancy and this is what we set out to do.
The "Oh my gosh" feelings were short lived and turned into, "We're having a baby!" feelings. We were excited, we were going to be parents of our first child. I was going to be a dad! We told everyone of our big news, my in-laws celebrated with us, giving us gifts, I bought gifts and maternity clothes for my awesome wife and did several other things along the way to celebrate the creation of life that grew within Regina.
It wasn't long until we were able to hear the heartbeat, our baby was like 10 or 11 weeks and next we were able to see the baby on a portable ultrasound machine, it was so cool! I couldn't believe it, we were going to have a baby!
Then, we had something develop that worried us which sent us to the doctor for an exam. She told us something didn't look right and scheduled us for a more involved ultrasound for a few days later. The baby's amniotic sac was way smaller than it should of been, which was very concerning to the doctor. We were scared once again, what was wrong? Was everything going to be okay? We were praying like mad asking God for his help and trying to remain positive.
I remember the "more involved" ultrasound. This time it was on the big screen for us. I remember both of us just being in awe as we saw his arms and legs moving and his heart beating with the swishing sound of his heart racing over what seemed like the surround sound of the speakers. It was cool and I was somewhat speechless. I was already proud of this baby and we were definitely attached by this point. We wanted this baby and were hoping for good news. As this ultrasound was a week or so later we were hoping things had changed, but they hadn't and we were told they were just going to closely monitor us. I remember sitting on the floor in the exam room feeling my heart sink as I felt our hopes for a healthy baby diminish.
Then it happened, it was the evening of November 19, 2003 only a few hours after we had just been to the doctor, Regina went into labor (although we didn't realize it at first). She was at home while I was at a meeting that I volunteered for. Some friends, Beth and Jill came over and sat with Regina while she tried to get over the pain. I came home, we went to bed, only to wake up to make a fast drive to St. John's...we realized something terrible was wrong.
We were met there by our close friend Heather to see us through what might be coming. It had only been like 30 minutes or less since we arrived at the hospital when our baby was delivered spontaneously. It happened fast so fast...the kind of fast that you don't know what happened kind of fast. There were screams, lots of tears and battered hearts in those moments of life slipping away from us. I couldn't breath, the room was spinning and I thought I was going to pass out....I had to open the bathroom door and call for help...this was our real life moment...the moment...a moment neither one of us will ever forget. Time of death 12:15 a.m. November 20, 2003... 14 weeks old.
My uncle arrived shortly after this and with his and Heather's help we stumbled through the next couple of hours. The pastoral staff of the hospital came and explained the grief process to us, he explained the grief process could take up to two years with anger being a feeling that would likely be experienced by both of us at some point. I didn't believe that, I could only feel sadness for Regina, myself and for our lost little one.
We went home alone that night around 5:00a.m. After a few hours the nun from the hospital called us and told us they believed the baby was a little girl and that we could come up and see her if we wanted. We went even though there was some hesitation. I remember us going into this cramped office near the main elevator at St. Johns when the nun walked in with our baby in her hands. She was so tiny, only 4 inches long, yet she was perfectly formed, ears, eyes, nose, hands, fingers, legs and toes at only 14 weeks. Even though she had passed, it was a miracle to see this. I was amazed at how developed she already was.
We had an outdoor memorial service on November 24th with most of our friends and some family there. It was bitter cold that day, it seemed as though our breath froze as soon as we exhaled…it was a fast service.
Some didn't understand why we had a memorial service for just a "miscarriage", but we just wanted to honor our child the best we could. Yes, we had at least one close person express this to us within a week of our loss. See, for us, we had lost something very close to us and for us we needed to do this….with our friends and family there to support us.
Since we lost our little girl around the holidays we never knew if the cards we received in the mail were Christmas Cards or Grief Cards from various friends and family. They were mixed in each day. It was nice, but weird at the same time. I could see the mailbox stuffed open with cards sticking out each day as I pulled into the driveway after work.
To make a long story short, at first the pathologists were 90% sure our a baby was a little girl, we named her Ellie. We even had a certificate with her name on it, which sat on our mantel for several weeks. But then, due to some other mistakes the hospital made they sent her off for further testing to see what was wrong. I remember the day or week, it was the second week in December when St.Johns called me and said, "Mr. Smith, we received your baby today back from Children's Mercy". Surreal, right? So surreal hearing those words. They had found out that our baby was a boy and that he had Triploidy, which was the cause of his death. We were surprised once again. For nights there lots of tears and calling out for our little girl ..Regina missed her baby girl and wanted her back so badly…as I did too. Now, we had found out she never existed and that instead we lost a little boy. For a couple of weeks we felt like we had now lost two babies...uggh!
I know it sounds weird, but it felt like this for awhile.
To help us identify with this new knowledge of her being a boy, we named him and received a new certificate with his name on it. We gave him the name of Trever J. Smith. The feelings of loosing two babies mostly disappeared, but we have never forgotten what it felt like.
On December 19th we buried our son, Trever which was another cold bitter day, much like the day of the memorial service. Two friends accompanied us. I remember the funeral home guy standing next to his van holding a small box in his arm and him handing it to me. I remember thinking that he wasn't supposed to be in this box, he was supposed to be inside Regina growing. I said a few words to honor him and placed his small little box (with a note and picture of us) into the grave and buried him with worship music playing in the background. He was my son, I would do this, no one else needed to, it was something I could do for him. There was a death announcement in the paper that day, I don't even know if anyone noticed, but it was there.
For the next several months we didn't know what to do or who to be. Should we be Jeff and Regina the newly weds or Jeff and Regina - “Parents“. Should we try again or wait awhile. Each month we asked ourselves if this was the month to try again, but we waited until one year had passed and tried again and were successful. I was nervous, afraid and didn't allow myself to get attached until we passed the 14th week mark, which made me feel bad that it took me this long to start feeling attached. On the 19th week we found out that Regina was carrying a boy and I was now excited and a little less nervous. This time everything worked out and nothing could ever compare to watching our son enter the world…it was just amazing….I thought this joy should be enough to last me the rest of my life.
Many may ask why I should share such a personal story. For one, it was recently November 19th and I do this to remember. Second, I do it to show awareness to miscarriages, still births, etc.
The pain that a mother and a father goes through is real even for a "miscarriage". You know that you lost your baby even though the St. John's Hospital paperwork labels your baby as your wife's "tissue" instead of calling him or her a baby. I was so sick of hearing the word miscarriage. For many this word is a way to distance themselves from what really happened, I didn’t like it then and I think this does more damage than good. We lost a baby, not “tissue” or a “thing” or anything else. We saw and heard his heartbeat, we saw him moving around like he was swimming or something and heard his heartbeat several times, it was the loss of our son, not just a miscarriage.
I also want people to know that there are those around you who are grieving over someone he or she has lost who need your support and unconditional love. Shortly after we lost our baby, the chaplain gave us grief packets which are intended for you to give to your family (like your parents or other people you are close to). This packet explained the grieving process to your loved ones so that they could know how to support you over the next several weeks, months or the next two years (which is how long the grieving process is roughly). Sadly, we had some who weren't interested in reading this and wanted us to just heal and get over it, move on…so it seemed. There were those that didn't want to think about our loss for very long. Now, looking back I think it was too painful for them to hear about our feelings or possibly they didn’t know what to do, but at any rate I remember clearly at least one person telling me they didn’t want to read the packet, which at the time felt like they were not interested in learning how they could help us. There was some ignorance around us….ignorance that amazed me at the time, I couldn’t believe it. Please if you get a chance take 15 to 30 minutes and read up on this….you or someone you are close to will likely benefit from it in some way.
In college I took a grief class and learned that grief doesn’t just go away in a few weeks…it lingers…it is a process and for most of us it takes awhile, which doesn’t fit our fast paced…move on….lives that we live in. We need to realize that while we may have moved on to brighter days that there are those around us who have lost something who may experience their grief for many, many more days to come and somehow we need to be just a little more sensitive to this.
I also write this to show that the dads have a stake in this loss as well and that dads can "feel" and show their emotion. It's okay for us dads to be sad and deal with it rather than stuffing it deep down within us somewhere with the rest of our feelings to only eat away at us like cancer. It's okay to feel and talk about it. It’s okay to remember. It’s even okay to cry about it no matter what anyone else says. I cried, I cried a lot, I was mad and I cried. I felt it so unfair for God to not allow me this privilege of having my son. I felt as though I had already served my time in the tough blows category of my life. I remember saying to God, “First, you let me be born without my dad, the dad that was supposed to take care of me, watch me grow up, be there for me and love me unconditionally and now the one thing you knew I was looking forward to….having a child…..the chance to be a good father, you took this away from me.”
Yeah, I said that and yeah in time things got better, but the point here is that regardless of what your personal beliefs are about a “miscarriage” or a “still born” child the fact is that the parents are likely suffering some sort of grief….feeling like they lost something major and they need those around them to know them and to help them to just be who they need to be in that moment.
We are good now and in the end the lives of our two healthy children have blessed us tremendously.
After I healed I was able to describe this experience to others as the worst experience of my life, as well as the most wonderful experience of my life. I say wonderful because we experienced the creation of life and all that does to you. It drew me closer to my bride of just a few short months in a way that I didn’t expect. I struggled in a way that I hadn’t ever struggled before, which caused me to grow somehow. It showed me that God still cared about me and I learned that I still needed to trust him….even when things didn’t look so good. I don’t know, its hard to put into words, all I know is that once I got over the grief, I was able to look back and feel fascination of creating our little boy and experiencing the joy of hearing his heartbeat, seeing him on a T.V. screen, remembering the smile on Regina’s face throughout the pregnancy…that’s what I remember and think about now. I love seeing his footprints as tiny as they are and I am glad that we were able to hold him in our hands as tiny as he was. I guess it showed me a lot about life and the value of it and the fragility of it as well. It’s something you can’t learn about in a book. I guess I get what it means to be thankful for the hard times too - even though in the moment that was the last thought from my mind.
I will end this blog entry with an excerpt from a letter that our close friend, Heather wrote for Trever’s scrapbook we made:
"The second thing I hang on to is the fullness of the love you both have for Trever…only real love can inspire grief like you experienced. I admire your determination to honor and remember him even when you felt like some wanted you to hurry up and move on. It is completely obvious that you ARE great parents. What I mean by this is, I believe the events of then show that you will be great parents for the other children that you’ll have - but more I believe that they mean you are already great parents. And whether Trever is here or in heaven - he is the one who made it so. His siblings will owe him a great debt. He exposed your love…for him, for me, for each other and for your family to be. I suppose we all owe him a great debt. Oh how we’ll miss him.”
No comments:
Post a Comment