ELIJAH D.

It is late (after 11PM) on Friday night September 28th. I planned on updating this blog later this weekend with photos of our nursery which we finished painting on Monday the 24th and from my baby shower that I was supposed to of had in Louisville tomorrow (the 29th). Instead, I am writing this in a pain killer induced state after having surgery earlier today. Allow me to share in raw emotion the events of this past week.

Every so often, I'll meet Jason at the ER when he gets off a shift and we'll find an empty room and he'll preform an ultrasound on our baby. We laugh because we most likely have more photos of our baby than most women will get in their entire 9 months. On Tuesday, the 25th, Jason was working the 3pm-12am shift. He called that evening to say that the department was fairly empty and it would be a good night for an ultrasounds, and so I drive to his hospital and we excitedly find a room wondering how much our baby had grown. I brought my camera and took a few photos of Jason behind the machine and with a smile on his face as we are about to start. These are photos that I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to look at again.

The first thing we noticed is that we didn't detect a heartbeat. Nervous and scared Jason kept looking around and I laid back on the bed and prayed silently. 30 minutes later we gave up the search for the heartbeat and we both broke down and cried. Well, Jason cried and I wailed. I cried so loud that someone who I didn't know came to see if I was okay because I sounded in pain. One of Jason's co-workers who is also a great friend to me was there and so we went to tell her and she hugged us and cried for us too.

Since I met Jason at work that night we had 2 cars to drive home. I didn't want to be alone for even a minute, but Jason followed me home and he made sure we arrived together. The entire drive home I sobbed and prayed. My first words are, "Lord, I still love you and I still trust you, but I don't like this." Then I preceded to pray for the baby's heartbeat to be restored, that it was a mistake, and I confessed that I was confused about this plan - why were we allowed to even find out we were pregnant if we were just going to loose the baby at 11 weeks? When I was almost home the song "God is God" by Stephen Curtis Chapman came on and I stopped praying and just let the song minister to me.

We arrive back at the house and we both move around like zombies. We head to our bedroom as it was almost 2:30AM. I had taken the dirty sheets off the bed earlier that evening and had yet to make the bed back. Neither one of us really felt like doing chores, so we decided to sleep in the guest room. We brought Tucker with us. Tucker doesn't have many rules in the house, but one rule that we do enforce is that he is NOT allowed on the beds. He has slept in his crate every night. Well, Tuesday night we allow Tucker to sleep in the bed with us. Neither Jason or I actually slept, but the three of us snuggled all through the night in between tears and prayers.

We called our doctor when her office opened at 8:30 and she moved around her patients so she could see us that afternoon. That was a very hard waiting time for us. I was sad and scared and Jason said he was confused and scared. He was really hoped that he was mistaken.

We sit in the waiting room for about 10 minutes among all the showing pregnant ladies. I feel sick to my stomach (I got sick while crying on Tuesday night) and Jason is just praying for a false alarm. Finally we get called back by our favorite ultrasound tech, Vicki. She preforms the ultrasound and while Jason watches the screen - I watch her face. I see the disappointment in her eyes and how she shook her head no. I began to cry again. Vicki had to look around at other areas of my body and then she left us to be alone. Jason and I just sobbed together. I kept asking if I caused this. I mean, I was entrusted with this life and apparently I wasn't doing my job correctly. Jason said the one thing he knew for sure was that this had nothing to do with me. He tried to reassure me that I was the best mother, but it took my heart several days (and several times hearing the truth from my doctor and Jason) to believe it.

After we had some time by ourselves, we met with our doctor who then went over our options of what to do with the baby that was still very much inside of me. I just cried and said I really couldn't think about this right now. She understood and told us we could call her when we had decided. She handed us a grief packet that had information on support groups and memorial service ideas for women who loose their babies. She also then escorted us out the back door so that we could avoid seeing the happy pregnant ladies. We love our doctor!!!

Wednesday afternoon was sort of a blur. I sent out a few mass e-mails one to my church drama team to explain why I would not be at practice that night, one to a woman's Bible Study I am in, and one to some of Jason's classmates and their wives. We also called my parents (to get my dad's opinion on what we should do medically) and I asked them to share the news with my family. I then called my dear friend who was throwing me a shower on Saturday to cancel and she said she would call everyone and let them know.

Within a matter of minutes, our phones started ringing with friends wanting to cry and pray with us. A friend ran by a card and some flowers, etc. We also named our baby. We named him Elijah because in the Bible Elijah was taken up to be with Lord and so was our baby. We know that he is in heaven waiting on us to join him and we'll get to spend eternity with him and so that helps our grief. I sent a few more e-mails, made a few more phone calls, and then just ended up taking a sleeping pill so that I would be able to get some sleep.

Thursday we basically spent the day either on the phone or visiting with one friend after another. For me, the effort, gifts, love, visits, and prayers that friends sent our way truly helped me cope. It showed that Elijah's life was significant to others and that he was a life and not just the loss of some tissue. I don't think I'll be able to share in words the joy I received from everyone who showed up at our door, met us for coffee, or called in tears just to sit on the phone with me.

Thursday afternoon we had to go back to the hospital in order for me to be prepped for surgery on Friday AM. This procedure was extremely painful and lasted for almost an hour. After the procedure we left and Jason helped me to return some maternity clothes that we had bought earlier. Once we got back to our house, we called Jason's family to share the news with them. His little brother cried, "someone in our family just died." and with that Jason lost it for the rest of the night. He summed it up - our first born had died. We didn't just have a miscarriage, we lost our first baby.

Thursday night we were laying in bed and we were talking about the day. I talked about how I was still able to praise God through this and I am in no way mad or frustrated at Him or His plan. I don't like it, but I love and trust God anyway. Jason agreed. We talked about how maybe God will use the way we handle this situation to point people (hurting in their own ways) to Christ. That made us realize how proud we were of little Elijah. We spent a long time in prayer that night - telling the Lord how much we love and missed Elijah but how proud we were of him. We thought about our time in heaven with him.

The rest of the night I didn't sleep well and kept getting sick to my stomach (which I think was all nerves). By the time we arrived at the hospital Friday AM I was still getting sick to my stomach. Jason was able to be with me all the way until they took me back into the OR. Before I left, we prayed and cried together and said goodbye to Elijah. It will be our last time for the three of us to be together until heaven.

I remember going back into the COLD OR. My doctor held my hand and kept telling me she was going to be with me for the entire time. I remember someone telling me that I was about to get really sleepy. That is the last thing I remember...

While lying in the recovery room I hear someone saying my name. My mind is not fully awake yet and I just begin sobbing - even before I can open my eyes. The nurse thinks it is because of pain and I feel her push a pill down my throat. I swallowed it but as she kept asking, "Are you in pain?" I kept crying and just shaking my head no. I don't really know what is going on, but all I can conclude is that my heart and soul knew that Elijah was no longer with me. Even before my mind could process that. I wasn't in pain and had no other reason to be sobbing.

A few minutes later they wheel me back to my room where Jason is waiting for me. We cry together and then I fall back asleep for a little bit. After my recovery time is over and I'm awake and telling them I'm not in pain - they tell us we can leave. We drive home and plan to spend the rest of the day on the couch.

We are greeted at the house with another flower delivery (we had gotten 2 the day before). We start taking a little nap and get woken up to a knock on the door - some more flowers. We are blown away by people's support. That helps so much. Phone calls, visits, gifts, and e-mails have been pouring in and that means the most.

My continued to have visitors from all over Indy and Louisville. People bringing food, cards, and we got one very special statue gift of an angel holding a little boy in her arms.

Tonight, recovery from my surgery, I'm feeling physically okay. Not great - I have pain, but not a lot. Actually what hurts the wost is my throat from where they had to intubate me during that surgery because of how shallow my breathing became.

Emotionally I'm pretty sad. I miss Elijah and the thought of our future together. Jason and I are still very much a family and we feel confident that kids are a part of God's plan for our lives, but we are unsure of the means and timing of His will.

We plan to grieve the loss of Elijah. We are planning to bury him in a few weeks after the lab is done running tests on him. While I hate planning my child's memorial service - at the same time what a sense of closure and validation of his precious little life.

In a few weeks we will most likely put our names back on the adoption waiting list. This is a scary step of faith for us, though, as we know that adoption loss is a very real possibility and the thought of loosing another baby is very heartbreaking for us.

I guess I wanted to type the events of the last few days not only to update you all, but also to let you know our hearts - our pain. We have known several couples over the years who have lost babies either through the means of a miscarriage or adoption loss. Both are very real pains that we never really understood before. How could you understand the exact pain of something until you have been through it? We have learned through this process that we did in fact loose part of our family and not just a mass of tissue. In heaven, Elijah will be a real part of our family unit. Until then, he will be in our memories and hearts daily. We have already agreed to get him a Christmas ornament and we plan on putting together a keepsake box.

Please be in prayer for us as we heal. Please pray that this will open more opportunities for us to share the incredible name of Jesus Christ. Thank you for your love and excitement for Elijah since the knowledge of his conception. He will always be our first child.