Our Mission

Come find out what our mission as a non-profit organization is.

Our Story

Read the story of the sweet baby boy that inspired the foundation of this non-profit organization.

Packages

Learn more about what each donated package contains and the reason why it is included.

How To Help

Want to help out? Come find out the ways that you can do just that.

Donate

There are many ways you can donate to our cause - come read how to do so.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Guest Post: Rachel


Today we are lucky enough to have Rachel with us Guest Blogging. Please take a moment to read her post and to leave comments in response in the comments below or on our Facebook Page
11.15.12
As soon as I saw the pink spots swirling in the toilet and drenching into my toilet paper I had tears welling in my eyes.  In the pit of my stomach I thought I was losing you.  I washed my hands and dashed to my desk and logged off while grabbing all my stuff.  I ran to Linda’s desk where the tears started to fall.  She hugged me told me ‘it was in God’s hands’. I calmed down.  Tears fell like rain as I bolted to the Van.  I texted your daddy and let him know where I was going. Without a call I went to the doctor’s office.  
They get me in the river room.  I stare at those pictures wondering am I OK? Are you OK? This isn’t good, way too early for this to happen.  11 weeks was almost to the ‘in the clear’ stage.  I wait with my heart in my stomach.  What possible explanation can they give me? They have me undress and I sit and wait frozen with fear and feet numb from the cold.  They made a mistake. I hear the medical assistant and the doctor talking.  I need a sonogram as soon as possible.  I wait for her to come in and tell me to dress.  I roll over Dr. Tan’s words ‘oh no that needs a sonogram right away’ the tone of her voice filled with concern and worry.  I hear everything.  
They take me to the back to get the sonogram done.  I lay on the bed, and pulled my dress up.  As I lay there I think ‘This is the last time I will ever see you’ the Tech turns the sound on.  I listen to your heartbeat, you sound fine but inside I know this will be the last time I’ll ever hear that beautiful sound again.  The tech sends me back to my room, the river room, where my hopes are soon to float right along with it.  
I am told once again to undress.  As I lay naked with only a paper covering me on the bed I doze for a few minutes, wondering what she’ll tell me.  I hear the door and I immediately sit up.  She comes in a smile on her face.  She sounds more confident as she speaks ‘The sonogram looks good! I’m feeling better after getting the results.  Baby’s heartbeat is perfectly normal for 11 weeks.’ (She had me almost believing everything would be OK  That one day I would discover your sex, see your little face, and hold you in my arms.  I started to think those sonogram pictures the tech gave me wouldn’t haunt me or invoke a down pour of tears.  Maybe, just maybe this was going to be a difficult pregnancy, but a baby would still be at the end of 40 weeks) 
‘Let's just take a look at your cervix’ I was in pain, I was having cramps for days off and on since I discovered I was pregnant.  She did her check and the worry followed by forced smile appeared on her face.  I could tell she was trying her hardest to find words that would not invoke fear or hysteria.  My face had trails of tears, my eyes red and puffy.  I clinged onto whatever strength I had left, as not to cry when she spoke. ‘Well I’m not as confident as I was before.  Your cervix is softer than it should be.  I want you to rest as best as you can.  I want us to think positive and I don’t want to scare you but there is a possibility of a miscarriage’ the tears welled; some escaped and dripped down my cheeks.  I placed my hand over you and said ‘I have 3 little ones.  I’ll do my best to rest.  I understand and I’ll think positive thoughts’.  She left. I got dressed.  I looked at the pictures again thinking maybe, maybe we will be OK  
I left. I got in the van and called your Grandma. We talked for a while.  I then drove back to work to wait for Dad.  I promise you I did keep positive thoughts but knowing me I had to prepare for the worst.  Prepare for the life without you in it.  I never wanted to think this way.  
When Dad got in the van I told him to tell Wela that there was a chance you might never make it to this world.  Your Dad sounded sad when he told her and said Wela was even sadder.  I stayed in the van that day as your dad got your brothers from school.  I kept one hand on you all the way home.  I prayed to God to keep you safe.  I said to Dad ‘If we lose this baby you know I’m going to blame myself, we shouldn’t have had so much sex, I should have eaten more, and I should have rested more.  The guilt will be greater then you’ll ever know’. ‘Why would you do that to yourself?’ he replied.  
You made Mommy sick on the way home.  My heart was breaking, my head hurt, my womb your home ached and my stomach was queasy.  I had the chills and I couldn’t eat.  Your brothers were told to leave mom alone, and for once they did all 3 of them.  Your Dad tried his best to comfort me and take care of me.  He even held my hair as I threw-up in the trashcan.  He was worried, told me this time was different and I needed to accept that.  How different I wondered.  I’d rather have that tough difficult pregnancy just to hold on to my bundle of joy.  We tried to make light of things and said ‘you’d better be a girl for all the grief you’re putting your Mommy through’.  It was hard to sleep that night.  Your Dad felt helpless and I was restless.  We held hands as we touched you and prayed that everything would be OK  We hardly got sleep that night.
11.16.12
When we woke up the next morning I knew your Dad had to get ready for work.  As much as I wanted him to stay with us I knew he had to go.  He helped me clean up around the apartment as I was supposed to have an Artistry party.  He didn’t want me to do much so he did as much as he could before he left.  He told me to take it easy and that he’d clean up when he got home later that evening.  
I did light things around the house.  I took your brothers to the store despite not feeling my best.  After that we just took it easy.  It all seems such a blur now.  I know I should have done less.  Thankfully no one showed up to my party.  My abdomen was hurting and all I wanted to do was curl up in your daddy’s arms.  He put on a movie and we sat on the couch cuddling and then we went to bed. Little did he know the spotting had gotten worse throughout the day.  I didn’t want to scare Dad so I didn’t say anything.  My positive thoughts dissipated and I was ready as I could be for the goodbye.
11.17.12
At 6am I woke up to Dad talking to Max.  All of a sudden I had to urgently pee.  As I was dashing towards the bathroom I felt my water break.  Tears fell like rain.  In that moment I knew I had lost you.  ‘I lost the baby’ I managed to tell Dad as I sat on the toilet. Max seeing the spots of blood on the ground innocently asked if I had a bloody nose.  I forced a smirk though my tears and said ‘I wish baby, oh how I wish’. I sat on the toilet as tears streamed down my face.  Dad took Max out of the bathroom.  ‘We have to take you to the hospital’.  All I could think is I lost you; I lost my baby, our baby.  I was in shock ‘why God? Why?'
Dad got your brothers dressed.  I managed to get dressed knowing I’d probably have to throw out whatever I put on.  We solemnly got into the van and drove towards the hospital.  Daddy called Wela, his heart was breaking as he told her we had lost you.  I cried harder and knew I had to call Grandma. I dialed the number and woke her to the terrible news. ‘Mommy I lost the baby’ I was fighting through the sobs and tears to finish my sentence.  It was the hardest sentence I have ever had to say.  On the other side of the phone I heard Grandma break down.  
It seemed like we got all the red lights. As we inched our way to the hospital I started to cramp up. Your Daddy parked and I rushed to the entrance of the Emergency Room.  As I was walking I felt a gush of blood fall out and my jeans were soaked in our blood.  ‘This must be what it feels like to s#%! your pants’ I thought as I walked to the door.  I felt weak as I made my way to the window to tell the receptionist I was having a miscarriage.  I could hardly pick up the pen to fill out my information.  
It was then your daddy arrived with your brothers.  Lucky for us there was a kid corner for AJ and Max to play in and Felix followed them.  Your Dad took the forms and filled them out for me.  I didn’t want to bleed all over the chairs so I stood holding onto a chair.  I felt weak and light headed.  I tried to hold myself together as I felt more blood soaking in, waiting for my name to be called.  After a few minutes they called me back.  
They took me to the triage room.  The nurse had me undress, it was terrible.  I took off my pants which were covered in blood.  Seeing the blood stains was tough.  I hesitated to look at my panties as they were completely drenched; as I slid them down I saw giant blood clots.  It was hard to keep it together as the sight of blood freaks me out.  I closed my eyes as I pulled them down.  I didn’t want my last memory of you to be lying in my panties.  The nurse asked me as I finished undressing if that was my husband out there and if I wanted him with me.  Of course I wanted him with me but he had to stay with the boys.  I told her ‘yes but he’s got to take care of our 3 boys’.  I put on the hospital gown and they wanted me to lie down on the bed.  
I was frozen and I didn’t want to move but I felt so much better to lie down. She asked me if I wanted a blanket ‘no’ I said.  A male nurse came in and placed a blanket on me anyways.  I was glad he did, I needed it I was cold from the shock of loosing you my love. The female nurse began to ask me all the usual questions and every question was answered with a no.  I tried to make a joke, as I always do in uncomfortable situations. ‘I am just a boring patient aren’t I?’ both nurses chuckled a little and said ‘no’ you are a perfect patient no is what we like to hear.  
After she was done filling out her paper work she asked me if I wanted to keep my clothes.  I told her to keep everything but my underwear.  I watched her threw them away and I thought ‘oh no did I just throw you away? Did I just get rid of you like you an everyday item of trash? Does your daddy want to keep this mangled bloody mess to give it a proper burial?’ by the time I thought of asking her to place them in a separate bag I was moved to room 34 in the Emergency Department.  
I wasn’t in any real pain but I felt like I should be.  I felt like I should physically feel pain as a punishment for losing you.  I wanted to be punished, I wanted to hurt.  How could I deliver 3 healthy babies and not the 4th?  I wanted the pain in my heart to be felt all over my body.  All I wanted was my husband by my side.  I texted him and told him what room I was in. 
The nurse came to put in my IV. She hurt me bad and failed on both her attempts to get it in.  I was finally feeling pain and for a few minutes my mind was off of you.  I really don’t know who felt worse me or the nurse for her 2 failed attempts.  She went to get another nurse who went to my left arm and gave me no warning as she stuck the needle in; at least she got it in the very first time.  
The nurse came back after I was settled told me that they needed to do a sonogram.  The doctor followed in shortly after wards trying to give me a piece of hope.  He tried to tell me that some bleeding was OK during pregnancy and that the baby could be fine.  I saw through him, I was mad he even gave me an option of hope.  I knew you had left my womb the last thing I needed now was false hope to cling to.  He also explained that I needed to have a catheter placed in so the tech would be able to fill my bladder to look at my uterus.   I awaited the nurse to put my catheter in.  After a while she came in and placed it in.  Now all I could do was wait, wait to have the sonogram done, wait to see that my womb was empty.  
I picked up my phone to see a few texts and I decided to place a status on facebook.  I hadn’t told the world yet that we were pregnant, not on facebook anyways.  I left a cryptic message on Thursday saying ‘Not out of the woods yet, but keeping positive thoughts’ which lead to me telling a few that I was pregnant.  This time I put up something like ‘the worst part is not ever knowing why, why me, why now?’  
I sat in pain and I texted Dad again asking him to text Angel and Robbie to see if they could watch your brothers.  Luckily Angel was able to watch your brothers for us in the morning. I was holding up pretty well until I saw you Dad walk in. Seeing his face gave me the OK to break down.  He’s the only one who was feeling my pain of losing you, our baby.  He kissed me and hugged me and told me it would be OK  I was so afraid that your daddy blamed me for losing you.  But I should have known better.  Daddy looked me in the eyes and told me he loved me.  He stroked my head and told me we would be OK  He said ‘Don’t feel guilty, don’t blame yourself.”  He then wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried into his shoulder.  We talked for a while and as soon as I started to form a smile on my face we heard the lullaby come on.  
Let me explain the lullaby.  When I had Max and Felix at Scottsdale health Care when we left with our bundles of joy we got to press a button.  This button played a lullaby that could be heard though out the hospital so that everyone would know a brand new baby was on his or her way home.  Hearing this sound as I lay in a puddle of our blood looking at your daddy who knows that sound and its meaning was like pouring a pound of salt on an open wound. Violent tears jolted out of my body.  Hearing that sound only conveyed that I would never have the joy of holding you in my arms.  Your Daddy held me until I settled down.  
Transport had arrived to take us, I mean me to get our sonogram done.  I debated ‘do I even ask the tech if there is a baby in there?’ ‘Oh man her job has to really be awful when she has to do a sonogram of the caliber’ I wouldn’t want to tell a woman that her womb that was once occupied has now become vacant.  My phone rang and it was Grandma.  She wanted an update on what was going on.  Daddy told her that I was being taken to get an ultra sound done and that we would call her back once we knew more.  As we got pulled into the room the Tech  offered me another warm blanket.  I accepted in a hurry.  Not only did these blankets keep me warm they helped comfort me. 
It was now time for the tech to do her check.  I stared ahead and occasionally looked at Daddy.  I didn’t want to see the screen.  Why would I want to search for you when I knew you were not there?  It hurt to have her poke around.  I let her do her assessment and her job and kept pretty silent. Then she said she needed to do one internally.  She took the tool and gentle entered it into my vagina.  Oh yeah that’s exactly what I needed.  It just felt so uncomfortable.  I tried to keep silent and pray that she was almost done.  On top of it all I needed to pee.  Having your bladder filled up was not only the weirdest feeling but it also made you want to pee like a race horse.  Finally she was done and she emptied my bladder for me.  ‘The doctor will go over your results for with you later’.  ‘Of course he will I’m sure you don’t want to give me the terrible news that my uterus is empty’ I thought.
Transport came once again to whisk me back to my room.  Only this time on our way we encountered a gathering of school aged children.  They looked at me with such wonderment ‘I wonder why is she here’ they must have been thinking.  I know I would have if I was in their shoes.  Seeing children just made it worse.  I had to fight of the tears knowing that I would only have 3 little ones in school not 4 and certainly not a daughter.  
Your Dad and I waited in the room for the Doctor to come in.  My mind was running wild with thoughts. I just needed that damn doctor to come in and be frank about it.  Tell me I lost my baby...you...I just needed to know for sure that you were gone.  No more false hope no more wishes I just wanted the honest bitter truth. When he did finally come in he told us that there was no baby, that my uterus was empty. My stomach dropped, I already knew you were gone but now it was official...He ordered that I take medication that would help me naturally flush out my system.  He told the nurse she could take out my catheter. Daddy had to leave to take Angel and your brother back to the house.  While he was gone the nurse came in and took out the catheter.  That was not a fun feeling but I was glad to have it out.  I rested with the light off and tried to relax as much as I could.  I had no pen and paper so I turned to my phone and I wrote a poem.  I had the phrase ‘How do you say goodbye to someone you’ve never met?’ and from that I took off.  
I lay in bed awaiting your dad’s return.  He had brought a bag with some snack, change of clothes and a few pairs of panties. When he got there I decided to give the bathroom a try.  I was scared for multiple reasons to use the bathroom.  I didn’t want to bleed all over everything and I didn’t want to send myself into hysterics seeing all the blood and clots.  I put on a pair of panties and a pad.  Then we slowly walked to the restroom. 
Once inside, I was cautious as I slid my panties down and sat on the toilet.  Dad sternly told me not to look; he knows just how afraid I am of blood.  I couldn’t help it though.  I wanted to see even though it pained me to look.  I had dried blood trails from my groin down to my toes.  Blood was just everywhere I looked.  I was starting to feel light headed and I wanted to get out as fast as I could of that bathroom.  Your Dad loves me.  This was a moment I know he really loved me.  He took the wash cloths and wet them and proceeded to clean off the blood trails and any signs of blood he found anywhere else. I put on clean underwear and a pad and we walked back to the room.
I just wanted to go home.  I wanted to leave the hospital and rest in the arms of your dad as we grieved your loss.  As we sat in the room making a few jokes here and there I was still bleeding a lot. My panties had filled to their capacity in blood and started leaking onto the pads on the bed and into my gown.  I didn’t have to see it I could feel it and that was enough.  Sitting in a pool of blood that wouldn’t be there if you were still in my womb was torture pure torture.  I didn’t want to alarm Dad so I didn’t say anything about it to him.  We sat and talked about you and talked about us and your brothers.  We also joked around because your mom has to laugh in awful, awkward sad situations to lighten up the mood.  I really don’t know what I would have done without your dad being there.  He’s my rock, my anchor when I need to be grounded.  
Daddy had to leave once again to get your brothers.  Luckily Uncle Robbie was able to watch them for us. I had the feeling inside to call Grandma again.  I dialed her up and she and I decided that she would come up to help us with your brothers and to help take care of me.  We decided to work out the details later.  My nurse changed for the 3rd time; only this time I had a male nurse whom I connected with almost instantly.  His wife had a miscarriage a little over a year ago and now they were just a month away from having a baby that she got pregnant with 2 months later.  He gave me hope.  He made me realize that we did have a chance to have another child if we wanted to.  The problem was I didn’t know if I ever wanted to be pregnant again.
He brought me my medication to help my body flush out my system and he offered me pain medication.  I declined the pain meds.  I wasn’t in that much pain and even though the doctor and the nurse both warned me that my medication would make me cramp up more intensely I declined.  Of course they were right as your Dad was gone and the medication started to work I was feeling pain.  The only thing was I wanted to feel pain.  I wanted to be punished for loosing you.  I wanted to physically hurt as much as my heart and soul were hurting.  I deserved to feel pain.  
The Nurse needed to take my blood pressure in 3 different positions laying down, sitting up and standing.  All 3 were looking really good.  The nurse said he thought I would be able to go home as long as my bleeding was doing better.  He suggested that I get dressed because things were looking as if I was going to be able to go home.  I was overwhelmed with relief.  All I wanted was to go home.  I just wanted to be home, away from the hospital.  
My nurse left and I proceeded to get up and look into the bag your Daddy had brought for me.  I found a pair of underwear.  As I slid down the panties I was wearing a huge gush  hit the floor.  The sound was enough to make me sick to my stomach.  The last thing I wanted was to look down but I knew I had to.  My legs quivered in shock as I slowly looked down to the floor.  I felt like I was going to faint.  There I was staring at a bloody mess clots and all.  I finished taking my panties off and worry rushed over me.  I couldn’t go home.  I was still bleeding way to much.  I stood there a few seconds filled with freight.  I had to call my nurse my male nurse to come help me.  I was to weak and to overcome with fear to yell out.  I peered to the right side of my bed where my bedside table was and my nurse button.  I had to muster up the courage and strength to waddle over there to push the button.  I was also embarrassed of the blood all over the floor.  I saw some towels and I placed them on the floor.  Over the bloody mess that was once safely in my womb.  I made my way to the right side of the bed and pressed the button.  I just stood grossed out by all the blood on my gown and all the dried blood trails down my legs.  Tears welled in my eyes and eventually dripped down my face and chin where they fell to the floor.  I asked myself why.  Why is this happening to me, why did I have to loose you.  
My nurse called me from behind the curtain.  “how are we doing honey?”  “I’m bleeding really bad and I got it all over the floor.  I’m gonna need a new gown.”  I covered up as best as I could and he came in and saw our mess.  “Aww honey its OK don’t worry we will clean up the mess and yes you are going to need a new gown.  I’ll be right back.”  He came back and gave me a new gown.  
I put on the new gown and called out to the Nurse “I'm ready”  he came back in with some new sheets to put on the bed.  I struggled trying to tie the strings on my gown together.  I was too struck on seeing our bloody mess every where.  I was horrified at the sight and even more so for the reason I was in the ER room to begin with.  I just wanted you back, back in the safety of my womb.  He put together the bed and laied down some extra padding for me to lay on top of.  I crawled back in bed.  I was starting to feel more pain in my abdomen as my body was still trying to flush whatever was left of you out.  
I lay there quietly, listening to the soft dialogue on my TV as my mind kept wandering to the whys.... why me?....why now?.....why did I get pregnant at all?  What did I do to deserve this?  Why am I being punished?  Why did my baby have to leave me so..... was she a she like we were so hoping she would be... our sweet little Penelope.....or would we'd be having our 4th little boy to add to our crazy mix another x to add to the mix... Xavier..... why is this happening to me?  Why is this happening to us?  I tried so hard to focus on the fact I had your brothers' 3 smiling faces to greet me when I would leave this hospital but the hole in my heart would never be filled by them no matter how hard they or I tried.  A part of me will always be with you my love.  I still couldn't fully wrap my head around it.  I knew you were gone, I knew I lost you.  It's then you Dad walked though the curtain, clearing my mind of these thoughts at least for now....
“they offered me some pain medication, should I take some?” I asked your Daddy.  He looked at me with the utmost care and replied “are you in pain, if so yes, you should take something.”  I felt conflicted inside yes I felt some pain but like I said before I gladly welcomed the pain, at the moment it was the only thing that made me feel alive and I felt like I should be suffering and should be punished for what had happened.  I wanted to feel the physical hurt and pain that exuberated in my heart and soul.  My pause was long enough for your Dad to know I was in pain.  He said “you're gonna take something.”  He walked from the left side of my bed to the right side and pressed my nurse button.  
How funny it seemed that they were so willing and eager to give me pain medication before but now they were hardly anywhere to be found.  It was OK though, I was OK, I could deal and manage the pain fine on my own.  At least this pain reminded me that I was alive.  Finally we got hold of a nurse.  I told her “I'm ready for some pain meds now.”  It wasn't my nurse but another one that was helping out.  Since she obviously didn’t know I was being offered pain meds for the last few hours she replied to me “oh OK, let me just double check with your doctor.”  I was slightly annoyed but I knew she was just doing her job.  I was really just hoping for my ibuprofen or acetaminophen or something to help with the cramping.  I in no way expected to see her ripping open a sealed syringe.  Oh no, no no no I thought in my head.  I don’t need serious medication just a little to help with my pain.  I wasn't writing in pain just uncomfortable.  I feared the worst as she approached and I knew it was morphine.  “we are gonna give you a little dose of morphine” she said “the doctor prescribed a fourth of the regular amount for you.  I wanted to tell her no but because she opened it, I reluctantly took it.
The second she pushed the morphine in my system my head got really woozy.  I didn't like it at all, in fact now I was regretting getting anything at all to help with the pain.  Why in the world would they give me MORPHINE?  I never said I was in unbearable pain....quarter dose or not it was still too much.  In fact after the morphine push I got an almost instant high and I just started talking.  I was talking a ton.  Your poor Daddy tried to get me to rest and to stay quiet but I just kept blabbering on.  I was my normal dark humored self trying to crack jokes as to not let it sink in that you were gone.  I didn't want to allow myself to think too much.  My thinking never does me any good.    
The doctor came in.  He looked at me and asked “Do you know the name of your doctor?  I need to contact her.  I'm concerned about your bleeding. You are still bleeding a lot and we may need to do a procedure to finish up what your body couldn't.”  Your Daddy stepped in for me and answered what ever questions he could.  All I could say was “Dr Tan or Dr Rowan.”  I wanted Dr Tan there since she was the one who had saw us on Thursday.  She knew what was going on.  She was the one who had for told what was going to happen.  I still have her look of ultimate concern as she said 'I don’t want to scare you but there is a possibility of a miscarriage' as her voice tone tried so hard to sound optimistic.  It was then I knew something bad would happen I just didn't want it to and I prayed for the best.  But my prayers went unanswered and my darling you were gone just as quick as you came to life.  
I honestly don’t remember much after we decided that my doctor needed to be called and that a D&C would be done, what ever that was.  That morphine had me so high all I could do was talk and talk and talk.  I couldn’t' and wouldn't shut up.  I remember the ride my nurse took me on to the operating room.  Your daddy followed behind.  He is always so good to me, such perfect father material.  He was always more excited then I was every time I was pregnant.  This time especially because he just knew in his heart you were going to be the girl we had been waiting to have to complete our family.  
I laid in that bed woozy from the morphine.  Your daddy told me he got a call from grandma.  Apparently your Auntie Bethie and Uncle Eric drove her up from Tucson to be here with me.  I was grateful so grateful.  Besides having your daddy with me I just wanted my mommy, your grandma.  
I had to pee, I'd been holding it for quite a while and was nervous about going to the bathroom again especially after the first time.  I just couldn't hold it anymore and I asked the nurse if I could go to the rest room.  Your Daddy helped me sit up until I was ready to stand and waddle my way to the bathroom.  Being the gentleman he is, he made sure to be right behind me to 'cover' me up and hold my gown together, as we all know hospital gowns are known for indecent exposure.  I got to the toilet and did my thing.  This time was not traumatic like the first time.  There was still a lot of blood but it was nothing like what had happened twice just hours ago.  I made my way to the sink and started to wash my hands.  As I looked in the mirror I started to laugh.  I looked horrendous.  I was so high off morphine it looked like I had put on red eye liner.  I looked at your Daddy and I said 'Babe it looks like I came straight out of a cheech and chong movie.  This is the only time you will ever see me high.'  
As we made our way back to the bed the nurse was changing the sheets.  I thought I heard her make a comment when I got up to use the rest room 'oh hunny you are bleeding a lot' and from that I knew I'd be coming back to new sheets.   
It wasn't long until I was told they were ready for me.  I just wanted it all to be over.  I just wanted to go home and grieve the loss of you.  They took me back and put the oxygen mask on me and told me to count, the next thing I knew I was waking up  right where I had started in the OR Triage room.  Your Dad was no where in sight.  He went and sat with your Grandma, Auntie and Uncle while Mommy had her procedure.  After I woke up the nurse offered to go get your Daddy and Grandma for me.  

If you would like to guest post with us, please send us a message via our Contact Us page. 

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Guest Post: Leigha

Today we are lucky enough to have Leigha with us Guest Blogging and sharing her experience. Please take a moment to read her post and to leave comments in response in the comments below or on our Facebook Page

Reagan's Story

My name is Leigha, and I am here to tell you Reagan's story. I found out I was pregnant June 2013. I was very scared, and didn't know what to do. I knew one thing, I wanted this beautiful child. I struggled for months with light bleeding. ER visits galore. They found a large cyst on my one remaining ovary that was growing very rapidly, and gave the cyst a month to shrink. Dr Huff said if it doesn't get smaller, surgery was my only option. 


A month passed by, and the cyst shrunk from 8 cm to 2.4 cm!! I was so relieved, and thanked God so much that I didn't need surgery. Everything was fine I thought... but it wasn't. I was setting up for a surprise birthday party for my mom on August 25th 2013. I started to bleed a lot. It was on and off for the whole day, and went to the ER. Baby was fine they said. Heartbeat 158, and movements were awesome. Unfortunately, they found a small tear in my placenta. They called it a Placenta abruption. I didnt know about this tear though since I went to an ER that my OB was not contracted with, so the results just sat... I had a OB appt the next day, and they requested the results. Two long days I waited, and called my Dr's office. They scheduled an emergency stage 2 ultrasound to see how much the tear was. I was told everything would resume, and baby should be fine. August 30th 2013 we saw our little baby moving all around... when the ultrasound tech got to between the legs, there it was...I saw it, and didn't even need to be told....it was A GIRL! Daddy was super excited as we have another little girl who is 5, and their bond in incredible. He was gleaming from ear to ear smile as wide as the sea. Nothing could stop our excitement. Except for one thing....she was still in danger due to the tear. The Dr said she appears to be fine, and would still go on to live a healthy life, but that there was a small chance the tear could get worse. He also said there was a pocket of blood and a blood clot that may come out or get reabsorbed by my body. 

Saturday, August 31st...I was on break and went to the bathroom...two large blood clots came out with one small cough. I rushed myself back to the ER to have them say everything is fine. They monitored me for 30 minutes or so, and sent me on my way home. On the drive home, I started to cramp. I needed to get back to work as I have called off almost the whole week to take care of appts for our little girl. She was most important and work could wait. Cramps got worse, and then subsided. I went to bed, and woke up at 1am screaming bloody murder. I had a pain in my lower stomach that I've never felt before. I drove 90 miles an hour to the hospital and got there in time. She was still alive! Heart rate was 167, and the ultrasound guy for Chandler Regional said it was certainly a girl, and that she was fine. He said the tear is still the same size and nothing to worry about. So, they sent me to the ER side to see why I had that really horrible pain. I met with the ultrasound guy again, as they wanted to look at other parts of my body. They found my gall bladder with a bunch of gallstones in it. I was admitted immediately, and sent to the surgery floor to await the surgeons thoughts. He said I was fine and didn't need surgery, so I can be released the very next day! 

Then it happened. I know I was in the hospital for a reason, but for no reason to stay as well. I started having horrible cramps in my back that would come and go steady for about 20 minutes. I told the nurse and she said they would ask the Dr if I can get pain medicine. I told her it kind of felt like contractions... she dismissed my claim. I sat in the chair in the hospital crying from the pain, and then POP, something inside me popped. I stood up to go to the restroom, and it was my water. It had broke. 18 weeks pregnant, and I was in labor! I rushed out of my room, screamed to the first nurse I saw, and said "I'M 18 WEEKS PREGNANT, and MY WATER JUST BROKE" within minutes, I was in the OB triage area. Pain so intense I was screaming louder than I have ever screamed before. I was alone. I was scared. I knew....my baby just couldn't survive. Husband was on his way up with our 5 year old as this was happening, but it was too late. Reagan Harper Ewing was born on September 1st at 11:22 P.M. I felt her moving as she came out, but they could do nothing to help her survive. She was just too 
small.


If you would like to guest post with us, please send us a message via our Contact Us page. 

Friday, October 18, 2013

Guest Post: Larisa


 Today we are lucky enough to have Larisa from Held Your Whole Life with us Guest Blogging. Please take a moment to read her post and to leave comments in response in the comments below or on our Facebook Page



Our first born son, Asher Finn Barth, came silently into this world on his due date, October 9th, 2011. After a picture perfect 40 week pregnancy and an active little monkey in my womb, you never expect to hear those words, "I'm so sorry but your baby doesn't have a heart beat." I gave birth to death, and held my warm and beautiful 5lbs 5ozs baby boy and begged God to give him breath. I thought my life had ended that day and I would never smile again.

The journey to joy is a long and difficult one, and sometimes time seems to stand still even though the world is flying by. It was almost a year after my greatest heartbreak that my husband and I founded Held Your Whole Life to support families whose babies never took a breath on this earth. We want to acknowledge the lives of the children who are lost before they were born. In just a few short months, we have made over 3,000 personalized hand stamped necklaces and shipped them world-wide. We also felt that the dads were often left out, so we now create keychains that say "Held Your Whole Life in Daddy's heart" and include their angel baby's name.
 
Seeing our Asher Finn’s name brings so much comfort and we wanted to offer that to other grieving families. Our baby was our firstborn, our son, our child. He is not a “fetal demise”. I hate that term. I hate that the doctors and nurses and legislators refer to him as such. Part of healing for us has been proudly talking about our son and recognizing the lives of babies born in silence. 


I firmly believe in different love languages and I receive and give love through gifts. Asher's life was such an amazing gift to me and I am honored to parent him by giving beautiful tokens of remembrance to other grieving families. I am not afraid to say my son's name and I hope to empower others to break the silence.

Larisa is 28, the wife of a courageous husband who is a pastor, and mother to Asher Finn in heaven and Kamari Morning on earth. You can request one of Larisa's necklaces at Held Your Whole Life or you visit her on Facebook

Mommy of a baby in Heaven and a Rainbow Baby <3

If you would like to guest post with us, please send us a message via our Contact Us page. 

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day 2013

Today, October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. It is a day "when all grieving parents can come together and be surrounded by love and support from their friends and families, a day where the community can better understand their pain and learn how to reach out to those grieving. This would be a day to reflect on the loss yet embrace the love." (Source: October15th.com)

In efforts to commemorate this day, it is asked that in all time zones around the world that we all take a moment to light a candle at 7 PM tonight in remembrance of those Angels we have lost. 

In addition to the candle lighting, October15th.com has more ideas on how you can participate in giving awareness and remembrance to those Angels. You can visit their Ideas to Help page for some great ideas. Please share with us on our Facebook page how you plan to commemorate this day and maybe share some idea of your own. 

Take a moment to share this page and this day with your family and friends! Share all of the wonderful guest posts with others that we have had so far this month. 

Guest Post: Amber


            Today we are lucky enough to have Amber with us Guest Blogging. Please take a moment to read her post and to leave comments in response in the comments below or on our Facebook Page

            On June 1st 2013, my husband, Rajan and I found out we were expecting a baby. We were so excited to be expecting our first child. We hadn’t planned on getting pregnant but we knew God was blessing us with a very special gift. As our pregnancy went on we couldn’t wait to find out if our Baby T was a he or a she. We decided to get a gender scan at 15 weeks and we were ecstatic that our baby was a boy! Noah Jamar Treadwell would be born February 11th 2014, eight days before my 25th birthday. I couldn’t wait to be able to share our special days so close together.
On September 7th, we spent the day shopping for Noah, eating out and just having a great day. During the day I had been having a pushing feeling down low but, I just thought it was Noah stretching out and pushing against me like I’d seen him do so many times in our ultrasounds. That night I woke up around midnight to make a trip to the bathroom. I noticed I was cramping really bad and when I got up I saw a gush of blood. I immediately woke up my husband up and we rushed to the hospital.
                  In the emergency room they performed a pelvic exam and saw something alarming. I remember the doctor saying she saw something hanging out of my cervix, she thought it was a sac of some sort but she wasn’t exactly sure since this wasn’t her specialty.  I felt completely confused, unsure and shocked. Noah still had a heartbeat so I had hope that whatever was happening our baby would be okay. Once they were finished with the exam I started bleeding profusely. I was afraid to get up because I thought it was “him” and I didn’t want to see what was going on, especially if I had just lost my son. I asked the nurse did I lose him and she simply responded no. They rushed me from the Emergency room over to the women’s center where I was placed in a labor and delivery room to be seen by a specialist. I didn't understand what was going on but, I knew Noah’s heart was still beating so everything would be ok. I was again reexamined and we received the worse news possible. My cervix somehow has opened and since I was only 18 weeks pregnant there was nothing they could do to stop my labor or to save our baby.
                  I had to deliver my son Noah. He was born and died at 6:14am Sunday September 8th. He had no visual abnormalities anyone could see and they don't know why my cervix opened. I don’t know if we will ever get answers, but we were offered a genetic testing to see if that would medically find some answers.
                  We kept our Noah with us for the next twelve hours. We couldn’t bring ourselves to give him back to the nurses and it's one of the hardest things we've ever had to do in our lives.
                  I was so impressed by the nurses that took care of me and Dr. Napier who delivered our baby. The nurses held our hands and cried with us, they never pushed us to hurry up and give Noah to them for the last time, they supported us and went beyond their duties as a nurse. Dr. Napier came back after her shift ended and prayed with us, she didn’t care that she could get fired for what she was doing. Rajan and I needed her prayer more than she will ever know.
                  The few days that have followed haven’t been easy, we have cried, cried and cried some more. I can't get the images of that day out of my head, it's like a movie replaying over and over again. I keep asking God to give him back to us or to send him to me in a dream. I just need one more moment with him and I know I will never get it. I need to know that our son knows how much his mommy and daddy loves and miss him. That we would have done anything to keep him here with us, I would have gave my life so that he could live his. I try to find comfort in the fact that I believe God needed him more than we did.
I don't think anything could possibly prepare you for the loss of your child. During your pregnancy you day dream about what your life will be like, trips to the zoo, family pictures and playing outside with your little one. You imagine a new life, a new chapter and the high hopes you have for your child.
                  Once I lost my baby I felt like my life had been sucked out with his, it's almost like when he passed he took my heart to heaven with his. The pain you feel is deeper than any pain you'd ever fathom. I only had my Noah for eighteen weeks, but it's like I’ve loved him my entire life.
                  I’m a nursing student and I currently have an OB class. I haven’t been back to school, but I know I have to go back next week. I have to sit through that class and I’m expecting it will be torture while impeding on my healing process.
                  I don't know if tomorrow, next year, next month or next week will bring us relief but, later today were going to church to find peace in the Lords plan. I think the healing process for us begins with talking so were going to try to find someone to talk to. I’ve found comfort in writing my story about Noah. Like I said earlier, I believe in God’s plan. We may not understand it now but one day I will and I think for Rajan and I the healing process starts with the one that created this plan.
                  God allowed us to love our baby for eighteen weeks of his life and for as long as I have breath in my body I will never forget his beautiful face, his long feet, his long arms or the fact that he looked just like his daddy. But most importantly, I will never stop loving him.

If you would like to guest post with us, please send us a message via our Contact Us page. 

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Guest Post: Ashlee - A Poem

Today we are lucky enough to have Ashlee with us Guest Blogging. Ashlee wrote this beautiful poem in memory of her two angels. Please take a moment to read her post and to leave comments in response in the comments below or on our Facebook Page

Though we never got to meet,
to see your hands and tiny feet,
Mommy loves you with all her heart,
and it hurts so much to be apart. 
Daddy says hi to you above,
and he sends to you all his love,
you were his bright and shining star,
now his heart has a scar,
we picked out names, books and more,
we only wanted you to soar,
but you're in heaven and we are down here,
we loved you so our little dears,
even though you left us too soon,
you were brighter to us than the moon,
you filled us up with joy and cheer,
and maybe just a little fear,
but though I'll never hear you giggle,
even see you walk and wiggle,
know this is very true,
Mommy and Daddy loved you two,
one day I know that we'll meet,
so I can tickle those tiny feet,
you filled my heart, but yet I cry,
it was so hard to say goodbye,
but with every single tear ,
mommy loves you so much my little dears,
I will not say goodbye forever,
one day I'll see you in heaven,
but until that day, just remember,
our love will stay with you forever,
goodnight my dears I love you so,
just remember I wont let your memory go.



If you would like to guest post with us, please send us a message via our Contact Us page. 

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Guest Post: James

Today we are lucky enough to have James with us Guest Blogging. Please take a moment to read his post and to leave comments in response in the comments below or on our Facebook Page


September 7, 1999 was a day I will never forget.  That was the day my first son was born unto the Lord.  As I write this I am sitting in Afghanistan, away from my wife, there by compounding the hurt inside.   

After finding out we were to have a baby in the early months of 1999, his story - and ours - begins in May.  Traveling from Chicago, we drove to Detroit down I-94 to spend Mother’s Day with my older sister.  A chain reaction of events that, for a young, husband, son, and soon to be father, was a little embarrassing.  I drove through a stop light the van in front of me stopped suddenly because of the car in front of them.  I was not able to react fast enough and ran into the back of the van, which had been occupied by my Mother and both Grandmothers.  When you include my pregnant wife who was with me, the only person I had missed was my Mother-in-Law.  The police and ambulance showed up, nobody was seriously injured and we continued on our way.

Months later, while at work, I received a phone call from my wife who was extremely upset, I dropped everything and rushed home.  When I got there the news she gave me had both of us very nervous, little did I know, it was only going to get worse.  The doctor at the OBGYN clinic was trying to get a hold of us and we sat by the phone with our hearts rapidly beating awaiting the phone called that seemed would never come.  Finally, I called back and demanded we speak to the doctor.  The nurse tracked him down and put him on the phone where he preceded to tell my wife the results of her blood work which came back positive for HIV.

After we collected ourselves, we called our family and let them know we had information to share with them but couldn’t do it over the phone.  We asked my family to meet at my parent’s house when we get there in about 4-5 hours.  We arrived that night very late to a room filled with people very concerned about what it was we had to tell them.  As expected, there was an unbelievable amount of love and support as well as a lot of confusion and questions.  The next day we traveled another hour to tell my In-Laws.  As we showed up, their pastor was also at the house with his wife.  Once we shared the dreadful news, everyone gathered around us, put a small amount of oil on us and prayed for us.  I can still feel the warm sensation that come over me as the pastor prayed, I later found out, I was not the only one who had that same feeling.  Everyone had their own belief of what had happened that evening but with the ordinary oil that was used, in my opinion, there is only one explanation.

Skipping ahead a few days, we had gotten a call from the phlebotomists who had the HIV results.  He found something he didn’t feel comfortable with and asked us to come back to have the tests done again.  Hopeful, we traveled back to Chicago and days later, the results came back.  This time the news was both good and bad.  We found that the original sample had gotten mixed up and the positive result for HIV was correct, just not for my wife.  A sense of relief came over the two of us then suddenly, a rush of sorrow because that mean someone else who had been just as hopeful as us, was not getting the same news that the results were incorrect and found they were HIV positive.

Moving forwarded to September 6th 1999.  My wife is again very concerned because our little Alexander had not moved in a long time.  We called a friend of ours from back home as well as talked to our “new” doctor.  It was suggested that she eat ice cream to get some sugar into her system there by feeding Alex some as well.  That, along with all the other “tricks” to get him moving didn’t seem to do anything.  We went to the hospital and they began to set up the ultrasound machine.  The nurse moved the handle around searching for something, applied some more gel and tried again.  She then excused herself and came back with a doctor.  As luck would have it, the doctor happened to be the same doctor who gave my wife the miss diagnoses over the phone that she was HIV positive.   Filled with rage, I decided the best reaction for me was to grab the railing attached to the bed and focus on not punching him square in face.  I was so focused on not hitting him that I don’t remember exactually what he said, but I do remember someone saying that there was no heart beat.  Not fully understanding what was going on, I was told again (probably numerous times) that there was no heart beat and they would have to induce labor.  To my horror and disbelief, Alex was dead.

Up until now you have been reading the story about what happened.  This has been and will always be a difficult story to tell, the part that for me gets even more difficult is yet to come – my feelings.  As I have grown up I learned to bottled my feelings inside, put on them on a shelf for my review when I am alone, keeping them there so that I can do what it is that I do - be supportive to others.  I have always felt it was my duty, my job, to be there for my wife, my family and friends who are family just not by blood.  To comfort them, take care of them, and make sure they are ok.  Personal feelings, in my opinion, were secondary.  About a year ago, I had connected with a very good friend from high school through Facebook who had also lost her son.  My heart ached for her and her husband.  I knew the pain she was going through and presumed the pain he too was going through.  Understanding how difficult it is for me to share my pain, I tried to help her understand how he may be feeling and how much he cares even though he may not show it outwardly.  Since that day, I have revisited my personal feelings as well as the discussions with my dear friend.  I have come to the conclusion that, as strong as I may feel, the pain is still real and has the possibility to cause more pain for my wife because of my seemingly lack of outwardly personal emotion.  This in itself I have found to be counterproductive to the end goal so I decided to post this story to not only help myself, those around me, but also those who resemble me.

I am a proud man who has been playing ice hockey for 33 years now and have always had a firm belief that I am stronger and can take on more than most.  That being said, I can’t tell you how many times I had, and continue to, cry over the hours and days that were to come on that fateful night – most of which have been in secret and alone.  That night and since, I have found many corners where I could hide my pain, hide my sorrow, hide my tears.  I think of the moment on 7 September 1999 when our little Alex was being born unto God.  I remember that moment when the doctor handed him to the nurse as I waited for him to cry, but he never did.  I remember waiting for a joyous nurse bring him over and say “take a look at your beautiful little boy,” but that too never came.  Then all the sudden, as if I were facing my own death –his life flashed before my eyes.  Hs life that was never to come.

I felt that my wife and I were on an island, stranded, alone, and helpless.  My heart had been violently ripped out of my chest.  The pain was deeper than any ocean and starched further than the farthest star in the sky - I couldn’t see or imagine it’s beginning or it’s end.  Our family had come to provide support, support that they didn’t seem to know how to give and I didn’t know how to receive.  I can still walk through the halls of the hospital, walking past the rooms of new parents longing for the joy of holding our son, smiling from ear to ear, passing him to everyone in the room, filled with pride - but on this day, that joy hadn’t come and the hole in my chest ripped more, growing larger and larger.  I walked past the nursery where all the new born babies were being held and the hole in my chest grew even more, consuming my thoughts, taking over me.  As I returned to our room, a black card with a purple flower, placed outside the room was on the wall.  The nurse told us that it’s there to let everyone else know our tears are not tears of joy.  As she told us this, sorrow flooded in like a tsunami of pain and the hole grew even bigger.  In my moments alone, I reflected of the previous months and the years to come, why did this happen to Alex?  Why did it happen to us?  Most importantly, how did this happen.  Alex’s umbilical cord was at one point was unwound more than twice the normal size it should be.  Is that because of the trauma caused by the car accident?  Was it the stress cause by an incompetent doctor?  Was there something else that I did, that caused his life to end?  I often think about how his life would be.  What his personality would reflect.  Would he be strong, would he be a good student in school, would he play sports?  Then I go back to the moment when his life flashed before my eyes, the day he was born unto the Lord and I see him in my mind.  I feel an extreme amount of sorrow and sadness as I fight back the tears.

To this day, we will never know what the real cause of his death was but in the end, there have been at least 4 people that we know of who have accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.  Because of our story countless people have been touched through of the difficult times we were faced with.  I don’t think I will ever be able to say that I am healed, or that sharing is easy for me; I can say that I take each day as they come and pray that one day my wife and I will reunited with Alex.  There is a Bible verse that I keep near to my heart, “I can do all this through him who gives me strength” - Philippians 4:13

If you would like to guest post with us, please send us a message via our Contact Us page.