Out of Sequence Part II

My sibling was reading my blog and sent me a message that said: "I can't imagine what it feels like to lose the little one. I do hope you find peace with it someday, when you're ready." My response to that would be, "I thought I was at peace with it......". I remember leaving the hospital the Friday after I delivered Eric, my children were at home with my mother and father in law, they were playing in the courtyard while my in laws were seated on the bench. I remember walking out to the courtyard and my kids running up to me, they wrapped their arms around me as I bent over to hug them. I tried to rest that day, between preparing announcements to send to friends and family and planning to meet with the funeral home the following Monday. The doorbell had rang more than once with floral deliveries, each one received would bring me to tears. That Saturday, just a couple days post par tum I decided to "escape"; I went out to the spa to have a pedicure and manicure and then went to the department store to find appropriate clothes for the days ahead that I could actually fit into. We all know that following a delivery with an epidural one should not be driving for at least a week - that did not prevent me from "escaping my reality" that day. Sunday was Mother's Day, how bitter sweet, as they all have been since that year. We prepared to travel to West Virginia the next day to plan Eric's funeral service. I had cried my eyes out from the moment my son became an angel on Thursday, May 11th, till the time we had left for the funeral service on Tuesday, May 16th, I was determined to show great strength throughout my son's service and did not want to cry. I wanted to speak at my son's service and had shared the following prepared words:

I truly believe I understand God's purpose for this journey. And I feel privileged that he chose me to carry this child. Looking back we can see God's hand in every detail. He intricately placed certain people in our lives at just the right moment through out the past seven months.
In September of 2005 I chose to step down from management responsibilities and pursue other interests inside my company. Time had passed, my vacated position was still open and I was now carrying Eric, anxiously waiting for my shoes to be filled. In February of 2006 God placed Cathy Collins at Online, she would be my supervisor, but soon become so much more.
Cathy presented me with the following poem:

To Our Son

Written by Cathy Collins

We loved you before we knew you,

Our baby, our child, our son,

As if there were none others,

And you were the only one.

The joy that we celebrated

Hoping soon to see your face,

Our family would be so perfect now,

You and Jared, Reagan, Ryann and Chase.

We know God loves you more than we,

He always does what's best,

He is not an unkind God

And He never makes mistakes.

There are things that we nay never,

Fully understand,

But with tear filled eyes and broken hearts

He somehow holds our hands.

He is gently leading us now,

Through paths to us unknown.

And together with His love and strength,

We will carry on.

No one will ever take your place,

Love Mommy and Daddy

Jared, Reagan, Ryann and Chase

God has a purpose and a plan for each one of us and it is time we look up and say, "God, I'm ready to listen now!"

My son's funeral service closed with CeCe Winan's song "You Will" playing, I bit my lip as I listened to the lyrics: "Another bird has flown, another part of all of us is gone. Another right has been wrong, will we go on and on. The words from each one of us are all to real, Still I'm not able to feel what you feel. And I cannot say how long it will take for you to heal, but I believe you will

And someday your broken heart will mend, I know it will. And you will find your smile again, so take your time. For time is what it's going to take. And then one morning you'll awake to find there's one less tear. And you're healed, I believe you will"

I felt God's presence and peace come over me as I listened to those lyrics, I was able to let go of the pain, anger and disappointment I had experienced over the prior months - or so I thought I had let go? Maybe it was just for that moment? Maybe I am just now finding my smile again, maybe posting to this blog is helping me heal - had I not found peace yet?

Out of Sequence

I was on a conference call today (July 16, 2009) with a team member out of another office, someone that I had never met. While she was pulling up a file we were chatting, and she asked..."Do you have children?", "I replied yes", she asked "How many children do you have?", for a moment I stopped, the very same pause I take when anyone I am not acquainted with asks that question, my response was, "Four."

Does that answer diminish the value of my son's life, does it erase the memories of his existence for those 32 weeks that I was privileged enough to carry him or does it protect me? Protect me from the awkwardness as someone struggles to find the right response, protect me from revisiting the loss?

Will the memories fade, will they become less profound? I know the answer is NO. This experience defines who I am today.

I am a wife and mother, going through the motions of marriage while raising four children and always trying to honor the memory of the one we lost. We were told that this experience would either make or break our marriage........."I don't wanna to go through the motions."

It Was My Choice

That same week we had met with a specialist at the hospital, where we underwent another sonogram and the diagnosis was confirmed. We were once again advised to terminate the pregnancy.

I had never imagined that I would ever have to face making such a decision as this. My father an Assemblies of God minister raised us in a Christian home where we believe life begins at conception. But I would not be honest with you if I didn't disclose that I had considered terminating the pregnancy. We were warned that if I continued to carry the baby I could develop polyhydramnios, which is a medical condition describing an excess of amniotic fluid in the amniotic sac, this was due to our baby not being able to swallow the amniotic fluid. In a normal pregnancy the fetus will swallow the amniotic fluid then urinate and this process is repeated which allows a normal amount of amniotic fluid to be retained. If I decided to carry the baby and developed polyhydramnios they could go remove the excess fluid in a process similar to an amniocentesis.

I look back now and think I knew from the moment of the diagnosis what the right decision for me would be. I recall sitting in my parents home that Valentine's Day and saying to my father as I cried, "I will have to bury my son", I remember my father taking me into his arms as if I was still just a little girl and he started to pray.

The Next Day

After a very long emotional day, I had cried myself to sleep and on February 15, 2006 I awoke around 04:00 with swollen eyes; my first thought was of my baby. Still trying to process what I had learned the prior day. I wanted to begin to journal how I was feeling. I knew I would not have him for a lifetime so I wanted to make note of every memory while he was still alive inside me. Memories of craving ham & cheese sandwiches, with salty Lay's chips, or sending his father out for Skittles and Starburts after midnight and craziest of all - having a sudden interest in watching football.

I would feel him kicking; it was as if there was nothing wrong. I did not know whether to "carry on as normal" or to begin to grieve. I felt guilty if I enjoyed the simple pleasures of eating a meal, or watching a television show, it was as if I had started to mourn.

In the days to come I would be faced with making the decision to terminate the pregnancy or continue to carry him, I had no idea, at that time, the pain my choice would cause me.

February 14, 2006

February 14, 2006 – a Valentine’s Day I will never forget – I had completed my doctor’s visit and was heading to my 20 week sonogram – was on my cell with my husband, longing for his reassurance that everything was going to be normal with the sonogram; for weeks I had been battling a “feeling”, “a mother’s instinct” that something was not right. I knew in my heart two things, I was carrying a boy and something with this pregnancy was not like the others. I couldn’t shake that nagging feeling and when the sonogram started I sensed my instincts were correct, and then I heard the technician say, “Something is wrong with your baby”. My world stopped at that very moment, as she continued I lay there trying to process what I had just heard – all I could bring myself to ask was “is the baby a boy?” The technician called in a doctor to confirm her diagnosis and then they contacted my doctor; I stood, at the end of a long hall that led to the exam rooms, with the phone to my ear. While patients were moving around me and carrying on with their visits, I heard my doctor state to me, “we can terminate the pregnancy and try again”. I walked out of the radiology center with my receipt in hand that had the words “anencephalic fetus” written on it. To me, you were my baby, Eric Curtis Meadows. You were not just a fetus without a name.

Anencephaly is a cephalic disorder that results from a neural tube defect that occurs when the cephalic (head) end of the neural tube fails to close.

Introduction

On May 11, 2006; at 32 weeks gestation, my son Eric Curtis Meadows was delivered stillborn. I had learned during a routine 20 week prenatal sonogram that my unborn child, my son, was "anencephalic" and he would not survive. Doctors advised that I terminate the pregnancy. Faced with that decision I prayerfully chose to continue on; uncertain of how the events of the weeks ahead of me would unfold and would I be able to survive the heartbreak and pain.

I was hurt, disappointed, confused and frightened, how could this have happened to me, to my baby? The mother of four healthy children - why was this pregnancy unlike the others? What had I done differently, was this my fault?