August 9, 2005

Well, I have delayed the inevitable for as long as possible. For a few days now, I've been reliving this date over and over, trying to figure out how I can tell you all about it without it being so painful, for me or for you (the reader). I came to the conclusion that I just have to tell it how it is (and was) and hope that you can handle it. If you can't, you probably stopped reading this blog long ago. (:

We were all sitting on the couch as a family, watching a movie. I don't recall which one. We've seen everything there is to see I think. I was thinking of how uncomfortable I was (as usual) and noticing that I was having a few contractions. I was only 30 weeks pregnant, so I was certainly hoping that it was nothing. My tummy was just like a huge balloon, blown up full of fluid. Sweet Phoenix was so little, but my tummy was HUGE. With all of that fluid, it was hard to tell when I was having a contraction. So, really, I had no warning. I walked down the hall to tuck the kids into bed. As I was standing in their doorway, opening a candy wrapper...

my water broke.

Uummm, what now?

I stood there shocked. Fluid just began to pour. I didn't move. I told Parker to get me some towels. He came back with a hand towel. (: Sweet boy. "No," I said, "I mean like 3 beach towels." So, he came back with them a couple of minutes later. My husband called my parents and I went to the shower. I rinsed off, threw a few things in a bag and off we went to the hospital. The kids were in my parents car and we were in a separate car.
By the time we got there, I was bleeding...alot. I pretty much lost it. The nurse got me in a wheelchair, took us into a room, and handed me a gown. I went to the rest room to change and at the sight of so much blood, I immediately began sobbing. My husband was on the other side of the door, saying "please, don't cry."
I know he wanted to make it better. It couldn't be done.
I got into the bed and they hooked me up to the monitor.

No heartbeat.

My sweet boy was already gone.

Well, it seems like that is the end of the story to me. He was gone. Just as if someone sucked the air right out of my lungs. How did they expect me to go on? Now, I had to labor all night and bleed, and know that my baby boy was gone. Unbelievable. Really, I remember thinking, I just can't do this, I just can't. I really can't. I would just look at people, thinking, they really don't think I can do this do they???

It turns out, I had a placental abruption. Apparently from all of the fluid going out so quickly. That was the cause of all the bleeding. It also made labor pretty brutal. The contractions were accompanied by some very sharp pains. Finally, a few hours later, they talked me into an epidural and I went to sleep. I definitely needed that.
I woke up much calmer and he was ready to be born. He was only 2 pounds and came quite easily. They cleaned him up and handed him to us. The minute the nurses saw him they let out an "ahh, so sweet". He was. So very sweet. So very cute. So very gone.
I held him and loved on him. The kids held him. My husband held him. They moved me to my own private corner room and let us have him for however long we wanted. Family came. They held him. We were all so quiet. It was strange. I held him as long as I could. Then it hit me. He wasn't there. I knew, he was with Jesus. I had to let them take him. I could be the only one to make the decision. No one would have made me. It was time. So, we called the nurse and told her we were ready. Well, I wasn't really ready.

I watched them bundle him up and walk away.
I laid there in my bed so helpless.
I would have jumped up and fought them and told them nevermind if I had been able. Instead I just laid there and started sobbing. My chest was heaving up and down and I was crying the hardest I had ever cried in my life. Amazingly enough, it was a silent cry excepting a few sighs and sniffs. It was contagious. It filled the room. It was too much to bear. If I had been one of the family members, I would have run! Far away. I mean it was just TOO much. I looked over at my husband and my sweet kids. They were in so much pain too. No one had anything to offer anyone. We were all suffering, alone. Just in the same room.

Later, when everyone had left...I decided I needed to go. If he was not there anymore, I had no reason to be. I wanted to be home. There was no comfort. Anywhere I went, I felt empty, lost and alone. Home didn't help. It was so wrong to come home without him. It was all so quick. How could he really be gone?

...kleenex break...

OK, I think I've pulled it together again. There really is no poetic way to tell about that day. It is only the facts of the day, and pain. That's it. Nothing else. I tell you that so you can know...I hit bottom. The calm happy person that many of you see DID hit bottom. Really, understanding that helps you to understand how BIG God is. Only HE could take a pain so huge and make it better. A wound so gaping wide and waiting to be infected with bitterness and anger...made better.

The day I arrived home was a blur. I went to bed. I spent most of my time on the couch or in bed. My constant companion was the kleenex box. My husband took care of details. He spoke with the funeral home, talked to our pastor, picked out his head stone...all kinds of things that I just couldn't do. I imagine he didn't really have the strength either... but he did it.
We went to the funeral home to discuss arrangements. They did his funeral and burial free of charge. The sweet man asked me if I had another outfit that I wanted to put on him or if I wanted to wash the one he had been in because it was soiled. Sounds strange I know, but I wanted to wash it. It was the one and only thing I could do for my boy. I washed that little outfit at least 3 times. I cried and washed it, and held it. WOW. What a blessing. I got to do his laundry. You really can't understand I'm sure, but it was such a blessing to me. I have a new perspective on laundry. If I have laundry to do, that means I have kids who are alive and well and out busily getting their clothes dirty. That IS GOOD.
If only I could KEEP doing Phoenix's laundry...

Snowy days...

As I type, there are already 7 inches outside my door. There is a large ominous looking snow man in the back yard and alot of wet coats laying at my back door. What a fun day. The kids should be at their "homeschool enrichment" day but some brilliant people cancelled that due to the forecast last night. (: O, I guess that would be me (and Laura)!

We have already enjoyed some hot chocolate and I even got a nice hot shower. Yep, officially a good day. I wanted to type and let you know something that my sweet boy Phoenix has taught me. I remember a few years ago when my older two were so little...I used to get so mad (yes MAD) when my day didn't go just how I wanted it to go. I needed quiet time to myself and I wanted a hot shower without a crying baby interrupting. If you have little ones then you know those things are RARE. So, I spent alot of time being cranky.

Well, today, I finally hopped into the shower at around 11 a.m. (pretty good considering I didn't get one at all yesterday.) Anyway, I had the baby monitor sitting in the bathroom with me so I could hear if Forest started to wake up or cry. Well, of course, 2 minutes into my hot shower, Forest started crying. Crying hard, the kind you really can't block out or ignore. But, all of a sudden, I had a MAJOR de ja vu' experience. I remembered back to when that would happen with my older 2 and I remembered the intensely irritated emotion that would just flood me. Then, tears started to pour. How could I have been so upset that I had babies that needed me???? I don't know, but Phoenix taught me. He taught me that every second I get, even when they are crying and needing me when it is inconvenient is one to be celebrated. So, I hopped out of the shower and threw a towel around me and wore a big smile as I started to go get the poor thing... luckily daddy was nearby and I asked him to go check on him. I know that makes him as happy as it makes me now a days. NO... It was not worth losing my precious boy to learn that lesson, but, it is one more priceless thing that he has taught me.

Well, that's all. Just another day in the middle of sorrow and joy.

Continued

Well, tonight is the night. I am going to attempt to pick up this story where I left off. The last thing I told you about was how emotionally drained I was to walk around knowing that I probably wouldn't get to take my sweet little boy Phoenix home from the hospital. I don't really know how to explain the limbo I was in. I was grieving, yet, I was preparing to grieve. I was up most nights for at least 2 hours. My friends would notice because I answered their e-mails at 2 or 3 in the morning. I'm sure that wasn't good.

I was trying to enjoy what time I had with him, even while he was in my tummy. Yet, I was having to talk with my husband about a birth plan and what measures we would allow the nurses and doctors to take once he was here. We had to talk about DNR orders and all kinds of other things that you should never be faced with concerning your children. We were in a strange place... why would you not allow them to do everything possible to save your child's life? Well, because we knew that no matter what they did... if God himself did not intervene and save this child's life, all they would be doing is AT BEST, prolonging the inevitable for just a very BRIEF time and at worst, stealing every single precious second that we might be able to hold him and kiss him and tell him we loved him. We wanted every second with him that we could get. I was really hoping to deliver him and hold him and tell everyone else to "get lost". Sorry... that doesn't sound very nice. Frankly, I was not in a state of mind to be nice to anyone. I was hurting and hurting very badly.

I sat down one night and typed up a "birth plan" and printed it out so we would be ready to take it with us when the time came. I think I was around 28 weeks pregnant at that point. Our plan was to only allow the things they could do while he was with us. Maybe some oxygen, maybe something to keep him comfortable. I probably couldn't hope to nurse him because, the reason the amniotic fluid was building up was because he wasn't swallowing it. I wanted to try, but I didn't have high hopes. It is by far the most painful thing I have ever written in my life. It forced me to think ahead to those moments... the ones that promised to be incredibly heart breaking. I didn't want to go there.

During each Dr.'s appt. I was measured. My fluid was building up quickly. There are many things that I didn't know much about. This exact scenario was new for the Dr. too. He had seen many things in his career and each one progresses differently. I wasn't sure about draining the fluid and neither was he. At 28 weeks, I measured where most people measure at 36 weeks pregnant. Not good. I knew I might have him a little early. However, the clock was ticking and my fluid was building faster every day. By 30 weeks, I measured full term. It was a very uncomfortable time.

During this time, I prayed for Phoenix daily and hoped that he could feel the love that I had for him. I hoped that he didn't feel any of the disappointment or desperation...just love.

A Heavy Heart

Well, I am happy to report that I am still not sleeping through the night. (: This means, that I still get to look at Forest's precious face at least 3 times in the middle of the night. I will miss it when that changes. (But, I'm sure I'll enjoy dreaming about his sweet face instead.)

The last couple of weeks have been precious. But, I have to be honest... I have been weighed down with a heavy heart once again. I have hesitated to mention this because, I never want to tell someone else's story. So, I won't. But, I have to at least tell you briefly about a very close friend of mine who is walking down a very familiar road. Not long ago, around 20 weeks or so into her pregnancy, she received some very upsetting news about her baby. She has problems that will likely make it difficult for her to survive once born. (short of a miracle) I have loved being by her side through it all so far. It helps give even more meaning to Phoenix's precious short life. I am still loving it to tell you the truth.

However, I occasionally allow myself to actually feel the pain all over again for her and her husband and her family. It is so heavy on my heart, I almost can't breathe. I pray that she will get a miracle. Oh how I hope that she never has to feel what I felt. Here in our house, we are painfully aware of how rare miracles are and know that she might not get to come home with them. I feel the empty pit in my stomach all over again just thinking about it.

If you have a prayer list, please add my friend to it. I will not share names etc. so I won't be guilty of telling her story. She will tell it one day. I pray that it will be told with a different ending than mine.

In Pursuit of Sleep

You might have noticed, if you are one of the few still reading this, that I haven't posted very much lately. I have had many incredible opportunities to think of Phoenix in the last 5 weeks. Many late night hours of feeding to stare at Forest and think of what his big brother would have been like. Interestingly enough, he looks so much like Phoenix did. It is like a little gift from God to us. However, stealing enough time to actually get on the computer and post something worth reading has been next to impossible. Forest still needs to nurse every few hours or so and therefore I am not sleeping much in one stretch. I am quite sure I never get through a full sleep cycle. I am left feeling like I am stretched very thin during the day. My thoughts are not coherent.

I want to continue the story of Phoenix where I left off. I feel badly for beginning such an involved story and then PAUSING indefinitely. I apologize. I promise as soon as I begin sleeping through the night a little, I will continue.

I can't begin to tell you how blessed we feel around here. The whole family is just aglow with grateful hearts. Not one single inconvenience of having a baby around has really proven to be an inconvenience to us. Others might think so, but we are celebrating it. Even big brother and sister are happy to hear his cries. We have virtually stopped our entire life and spent every moment tending to him and we love every second of it. We miss Phoenix and dearly wish we were chasing a 2 year old and holding Forest at the same time. We can't wait to tell him all about his big brother and how he changed us all forever. I hope you are all having a wonderful New Year so far and that you are getting more sleep than me.

Until later...

More of the Story...

Forest Winston Cook. Born Nov. 29th 2007 at 5:03 p.m.
Wow. Where do I begin? I must begin with the faithfulness of God. In the midst of so many incredibly conflicting emotions, God has remained faithful, as always. I now understand that His faithfulness is not about my circumstances, but about His being there in my circumstances. The good and the bad. The story of Forest's birth has much to do with the story of Phoenix's birth. They are linked. The experience was amazing and difficult all at once. I apologize for the emotionally charged description but it can be no other way...

It started with fear as we headed to the hospital. The fear continued during labor with spurts of calm and peace that were certainly not explainable aside from the comforting presence of God. When Forest was finally born and I heard him cry I felt a flood of relief. However, that was fleeting.
He had the cord around his neck and was making a worrisome noise when he breathed. Worrisome enough for them to want to whisk him off to put him on an Oxygen monitor. If only they could have known what that did to this fragile mommy. I blinked back the tears and pleaded for my Dr. to convince them to bring him back to me. He left and said, "I'll see what I can do." Well, whatever he did it worked. I stayed awake that entire night and watched to see if he was indeed breathing. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. That made a total of about 48 hours straight without any sleep. You can imagine, I was delirious. The rest of our time in the hospital felt like it was full of HOURS of the nurses dragging him off for some test or other and me pleading with them to bring him back. I just wanted to grab him and run!!! The final morning his pediatrician showed up to do his circumcision and I cried as she left the room to do it. Then, I cried as soon as they brought him to me. Yes, I cried alot!

Believe it or not, the most emotional moment was still to come. I was having trouble believing that I would actually get to leave the hospital WITH him. The days at the hospital were spent holding my breath (or at least so to speak.)When they finally placed me in a wheel chair and set his little car seat in my lap...WOW. The flood of emotions that overcame me was almost embarassing. I still couldn't believe it. It was like God himself was handing him to us. The lump in my throat was gigantic and I was speechless. Could it be true? Could I really keep this little miracle? The tears just poured and poured. I tried to explain it to my husband but my chin just kept quivering when I would talk so I gave up. I'm sure he was terrified that I was going to be an absolute loony bird for the rest of our lives. You'll have to check in later to see if that happens or not. (:

Since we have been home I have only slept for about 2 hours at a time but have thoroughly enjoyed every second of my time with him. The first time I was finally alone with him (when the kids and my husband had retreated to the bedroom for a movie.) I was overcome with even more emotion. All of a sudden, I looked at Forest and saw Phoenix. I thought about how horrid it was to let them take him. How badly I wanted him back. Before I knew it, I was sobbing. Each time is healing, but oh, how real and painful that was. Like living it all over again. I know each milestone will be bittersweet. I will be celebrating Forest's life and wondering what it would be like to have Phoenix too. I know God is sovereign and was in complete control of the last few years of events because we allowed him to be. But, as a mother, I can't help but wish. Just wish I had him.

Yesterday, my daughter and I finally visited Phoenix's grave. I thought I would be fine but it was a little tougher than I thought. My sweet, wise girl asked me if we should come back when I wasn't so emotional. I assured her that I didn't think that day would come. I will always be full of emotion for Phoenix. So, we opened the door and walked slowly over to his beautifully engraved stone. It was paralyzing. I couldn't talk, I wanted to stay. I wanted to never leave. I wanted to tell him that I would never forget him. I wanted to hold him. I am full of love for him and it was all so very real once again. Anyway, as I type, I cry, yet again. Unbelievable. You would think there just wouldn't be any tears left. But, I assure you, they are in plentiful supply.
I am so glad though. With Forest's birth, comes a new layer of emotion for Phoenix. I had sadly managed to compartmentalize those feelings in 2 short years. I didn't want to but one must function. Right? When pain is too great, hide it. Right? No, that isn't healthy but it just wasn't going away and I didn't know what else to do with it. God knew it had to come out. I know he has many plans for Forest and one of those plans was to help his mommy deal with the pain of losing his big brother. I hope it is doing the same for the rest of the family. Hopefully, I will be able to post some more as I slowly get in to a routine. I have so much more to tell you about Phoenix....

So Thankful...

Just a note from the home of an incredibly emotional, but mostly, incredibly thankful mommy. Forest and I have finally gotten home from the hospital and everyone is doing well. He was born at 5:03 p.m. C.S.T. on November 29th. He weighed 7 lbs. 11 oz. (Praise God) and was 19 1/2" long. Our hearts are FULL.

Thank you to everyone who was praying. It was felt every step of the way. We love you.
I promise to continue the story...when I am not a mumbling mess from lack of sleep.