June 4th.

Dear Brooklyn,

You were supposed to be making your debut anytime now. Your Gramie swore you'd come tomorrow, June 5th, and share a birthday with her. I just knew you'd be late, like your big sister. She didn't want to leave her cozy home in my belly, and I thought you'd be the same.

It's been almost four months since you left your cozy little home inside of me. Everyday I wish you were still with me. I still feel your kicks and those sweet little feet poking out of the top of my ribs. I remember my last night with you, Daddy hugged me from behind while we were lying in bed, and rested his hand on my belly, on you.

I miss you. I don't think I can ever say that enough. I miss you. I knew you. I don't think many people truly understand that. I'm still your momma, and you're still my baby.

I want you here with me so bad, but I know I can't have you yet. You were too perfect. But you left your mark here, and are off to do bigger things until we meet again.

Love you always, my sweet angel girl. 

Momma

Dear Brooklyn.

Dear Brooklyn,


Still missing you everyday, sweet girl.

Your pretty headstone came in, and the grass is getting green finally. Once it gets a little warmer, I'll plant some flowers for you.

Big Sister has the little stuffed bear the hospital gave me when they took you from me. She sleeps with it every night and gives it lots of love. We call it Brookie-Bear.

You'd be ten and a half weeks old now. Time's been going by so fast, and so slow at the same time. You're still supposed to be in my tummy for another month.

It doesn't get easier. It just gets different.

I miss you. I love you.


Momma

A little closure.

This past week we finally got some answers we were waiting for (refer to my main blog for details on that). I feel like we have a better understanding of what happened now, and we also realize how much of a little miracle Brynleigh is. But we've got a long road ahead of us still.

We also had Brooklyn's gravestone designed and ordered finally. It should be here within the month. In the meantime, her grave is covered with bunnies and Easter egg decorations, as promised.

I bought frames to put both pictures of my two girls little feet in so they can be up on the wall. I'm so grateful to have pictures of Brooklyn. We only have 4, but that's more than many moms in our situation have. I'm so glad we have them to remember her by and to show her siblings so they know who she is. I sure love that little girl.

Dear Brooklyn.

Dear Brooklyn,

Today marks one whole month since we lost you. I'm still not used to you not living in my belly. I'm still having a hard time believing that this is something we really went through. 

I hope you know how incredibly much I love you. I hope you can feel it and I hope you never forget it. I feel like I failed you in so many ways. I wasn't able to protect you like a mommy should. I hope you know that I would have done so much different if I had known. Even just to try to change things.

Sometimes I worry that Heavenly Father took you from me because he didn't think I could handle you being different. That scares me. But I do know one thing--I'd love you all the same regardless. I hope you know that.

I'm slowly starting to accept that I may never have all the exact answers that I want. I've realized that answers won't bring you back. I'd still like to know why all this happened, but I'm beginning to be okay with not knowing everything. I know that constant searching doesn't help anything.

Daddy and I had a nice lady we know confide in us about how she lost her baby when she was 6 months pregnant, too. That was 40 years ago, and she told us how in those days, they did things a lot differently in the hospital. She never got to see her baby, she never got to hold her baby, she never got to bury her baby. She never got to say goodbye. She told us she was thankful to be able to come to your funeral and go through this with us, she said she felt like she got some closure of her own. 

I'm so grateful that I got some time with you, even if it was after your little spirit was already gone. I'm grateful for those kisses I got to plant all over your sweet little face. I'm thankful I have pictures to always remember you by. I'm thankful for that little grave a mile down the road that I can visit and decorate for every holiday (yes, I'm going to be one of those moms. Easter is coming soon baby girl!). As heartbreakingly hard as it was to say goodbye to you, I'm glad I had the opportunity to.

I know you've found Papa up there. I hope you two are spending plenty of time playing Airplane and Horsey, and I'm sure he's introducing you to all his favorite weird things, like Vienna Sausages and Matlock. Make sure you give him plenty of snuggles for all of us here and let him know how much he really was loved, too. 

I'd like you think you're going to be up there helping our Heavenly Father handpick your future siblings. Make sure he sends us lots of them, I've got quite a bit of love to share. I know you do, too. Won't it be fun to have a big family with plenty of brothers and sisters to play with and teach when we're all reunited one day? I know you're such a smart girl, Brookie. I can't even begin to imagine all that you know now. I'm glad we have such a special little angel watching over us. 

I don't think a day will ever go by where I won't miss you. Nobody can understand how badly I want you in my arms. But I know it will happen. Last Sunday in church, I shared my testimony (I hope you're proud of me, I've always been too scared to before...plus, I sound like a man when I'm choking back tears). I said that I had no idea how people go through these kinds of things without the gospel. I really don't understand. How badly must it hurt not knowing what happens after we die, if we'll ever see each other again? I said that I believe God brought the church to me because he knew what was laid ahead of me and he knew that I'd need it. I really do need it. I'm so glad I have those answers, at least. I'm glad I know where you are and what you're doing. I'm glad that I know I'll see you again and that I'll get the opportunity to raise you and be with you forever.

I love you so so much Brooklyn, and I miss you more than anything. I hope I can make you proud, and I hope that I can be as good of a mommy as you deserve. Please watch over us down here. Things are still hard and I know they will be for a long time. Please, please know that I'll love you, always & forever, no matter what. You're my perfect girl and you always will be. 

Love,

Mommy

an update.

We've been having a hard time getting life back to 'normal' around here.

On Thursday, I got a call from the doctor who delivered Brooklyn in California. The results from her chromosomal test came back (I didn't even realize they were doing any testing) and it turns out she had Down Syndrome. A rare form of Down Syndrome, at that. Nobody had any idea. She didn't look like she had it.

Sterling and I have to get some genetic testing done to see if one of us is a carrier, so we can know how future pregnancies could be affected. My doctor here said that there could be a 50/50 chance of Down's in future pregnancies if one of us is a carrier. We don't know anything for sure and we won't until we get the testing done and see a genetics counselor, so I'm trying (and kind of failing) to not get too worked up over it yet. There's always the chance that it was a completely random, isolated event, also. And no, the Down's shouldn't have caused the labor or abruption. Dr. Jones (in CA) said there's always the small chance it could have, but there's no scientific evidence finding a connection between the two. Both my doctors still attribute it to stress.

On another note, I've been having a lot of pain in my right abdomen all week. I finally called my doctor Thursday and he had me come in right away. I had an extensive ultrasound done yesterday, but I won't hear back until Monday. In the meantime, I'm staying drugged up on Percocet and extra-strength ibuprofen.

normalcy.

Friday marked two weeks since our sweet girl passed in and out of our lives. In some ways it feels like it's been forever, and in others it seems like we just booked our last-minute flights to California yesterday.

It was my first day of being able to drive again since I had a csection. Brynleigh and I went to the cemetery and visited baby sister. What do people normally do when they visit a grave? I just want to talk to Brooklyn and tell her everything I never got a chance to say. I know I could do that at home in my bed and she'd hear me all the same, but it just doesn't feel the same.

Life is slowly getting more normal-ish. Sterling and I went to the temple Saturday morning, then out on a double date with his sister that night. It was a good day, it really was. Every day has more normalcy in it, like grocery shopping and paying bills. We're going to Nashville in a little over two weeks for my sister's wedding, so I need to do some things in preparation for that still. The sympathy cards have slowed and I can browse Facebook (still quickly skipping over anyone's posts about pregnancy or newborns) without being angry that all these people's lives are going on as they always have or they're complaining about such 'hard' things in life like having the flu or having to work on a Saturday. My tears tends to come at small, random spurts throughout the day instead of sobfests before bed every night.

I'm completely aware that my emotions are going to be all over the place for awhile, but it still catches me off guard sometimes, even if I think I'm prepared for it. Driving by Portneuf Medical Center makes me sad because that's where she should have been born, healthy. Driving by EIRMC in Idaho Falls makes me sad because that's where I met my sweet Brynleigh and I want so badly to experience all that again. I feel guilty if I think I've had too good of a day because I don't want Brooklyn to think it only took me two weeks to grieve.

I don't want to be done grieving and I know it takes a long time, I just wish I could feel somewhat like a normal, fully-functioning person again. I wish I could have a little clarity about all this.

Grateful.

I know I'm in for a rollercoaster ride. I know there's going to be a lot of ups and downs before I eventually start feeling normal again. At this point, I can't really say there are good days yet. There's good moments, but still mostly a lot of just feeling crappy, mixed with some dips lower.

Yesterday was a tougher day. I was focusing a lot on the 'what-ifs'. I was searching for a reason why this happened, if there was anything I could have done differently to prevent it. When I think about different scenarios that could have been, I momentarily forget that Brooklyn's gone, that there's nothing I can do to change it now. That's when my heart drops and I feel like I'm back at square one.

I was texting a friend yesterday and told her about how wonderful this community has been to us. She told me she's really glad that I ended up with Sterling and in this little town. I really am so grateful to be where I'm at in life. If I just had to go through this, I'm so glad that Sterling is the one I'm going through it with. And I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. The people in this town have been beyond amazing.

We've had countless meals and treats brought to us, our freezer is stocked. Cards and money have been flowing in. A woman who has been in our same situation knit Brooklyn a sweet little white dress to be buried in at the drop of a hat. So many people have shown their love and support, I can't even believe it. I went to pay for everything from Brooklyn's funeral yesterday. The funeral home isn't charging us a thing, and our three plots at the cemetery, the digging and burial fees, and the tent rental have all been paid for by wonderful people. Everyone has been taking such good care of us, and I know these kinds of things don't happen just anywhere. We are so so blessed to have such great people surrounding us.

Facebook babies.

Facebook is just about unbearable to look at lately. Everyone is pregnant. And I was supposed to be pregnant with them.

Today I found out two more girls who I went to high school with are pregnant. And by random boyfriends, to boot. I know I shouldn't judge, but it just feels so unfair that all these girls get these accidental babies when I can't have mine--a baby who is so so loved and wanted, in a stable household.

Instead, I have to grieve and worry about if I can ever have more babies. Babies that are so very wanted. I know this is just how the world works, but it's so hard. I know there's a greater plan, but I just don't understand it.

Back to real life

Today is my first (partial) day back in my usual schedule. The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of tears and anger and pain and just about everything bad. We spent a week in California, then my mom, aunt, and sister were here last week. They went home yesterday, and Sterling went back to work today (after taking me to my doctors appointment this morning) so now it's just me and Brynleigh, like it used to be. It's a little lonely since I've been surrounded by people the last two weeks. But I know it'll be good to get back to regular life.

It's a strange place I'm in now. I still feel like I should be pregnant. When I think of the months to come, I have to remind myself plans have changed. I have to return my bridesmaid dress for my sister's wedding next month, since it'll be too big now. My best friend is getting married in June, and there's no longer the question of whether I'll be in the hospital giving birth or if I'll be driving a toddler and brand new baby to California for it.

When Brynleigh pulls up my shirt to rub my belly, it's not a cute thing anymore, it makes me cry. That flutter I felt in my stomach is my lunch being digested, not baby feet kicking me. All the emails for Zulily maternity sales aren't needed. I should be planning a new workout schedule to be starting in a month from now, not worrying about getting the girl's bedroom painted before my due date.

And the toughest realization of all? A mile or two down the road, in that cemetery I've driven by hundreds of times, there's a tiny little grave, covered by flowers I bought, and a sweet little body that lived inside of me for six months.

Meeting Baby Girl

When I woke up, Sterling told me what I already knew but never, ever wanted to hear. Our baby didn't make it. I was just over 24 weeks along. She was 1 lb 5 ounces. She was born alive, but was just too tiny to make it. They tried to resuscitate her for 45 minutes, but it didn't work, she was just too small.

Sterling brought her to me. I held her the rest of the day. She was so tiny and perfect. She looked so much like newborn Brynleigh. They had the same little nose and lips. Brooklyn had the same little triangle nostrils Brynleigh has. She was so, so precious.

I never wanted to let her go. I know her sweet little spirit wasn't there anymore, but I just wanted to get to know her the best I could. I wanted to memorize her little face. I wanted to get in enough kisses to last me a lifetime. She lived inside me for six months, I knew her like nobody else did. I wanted to connect this beautiful little body to all the movements, all the kicks and flutters I'd felt inside. Despite holding her all day, it wasn't enough. I could never snuggle her enough.

A nurse came in and got her little footprints and handprints for me. She took pictures of Brooklyn, too. They're supposed to come in the mail within a couple of weeks. I'm terrified they'll never make it for some reason or another. I want to see her sweet face and tiny feet again so bad.


Staying in the hospital, healing from a csection in the labor and delivery unit when you don't have your baby with you is the most haunting experience. The nurses were all incredibly nice, but being there was awful. A girl I grew up with delivered her baby while we were there. Seeing her family and baby-daddy walk in with flowers and balloons while I walked out with nothing but papers that said things like "What to do when there's milk but no baby" broke my heart for probably the hundredth time over the previous week.

Brooklyn's Birth

On Monday, February 10th, Sterling, Brynleigh and I flew to California. My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer in October, and he was rapidly declining over the previous few days. On Sunday, we found out he only had a couple of days left, at the most, so we booked a flight for early Monday morning. We were in Sacramento at the airport when he passed.

Friday morning, the 14th, I woke up around 3:30am to Brynleigh crying so I brought her into bed with us. I was having an achy lower back and hips, but that's nothing unusual. I dozed off a little here and there, but was mostly awake til morning. Around 6:30 or 7, my pains got a little worse. Sterling and Brynnie were awake so I told him about how I was feeling. I still wasn't very concerned. I just kept switching positions and going to the bathroom, hoping to feel better. Eventually, I checked my cervix and felt something very strange....I'm still not sure what it was, but I knew something was off.

I woke my mom up, as my pains were getting worse and coming and going, and I wanted her opinion. She was very worried and immediately called my cousin, who is an RN at the local hospital. My cousin told me to go to the ER to be checked out, so I threw on some clothes and my mom drove Sterling and I to the hospital.

At this point, I still wasn't convinced I was having contractions. Honestly, I thought they were gas pains. When I was in labor with Brynleigh, I had a hyperstimulated uterus, so I never actually felt a real contraction, I just had constant, intense pains. About halfway to the hospital, I realized I was in labor. I was having really intense, immobilizing pains that came every minute or two. I yelled at my mom for trying to ask me questions while I was in the middle of one of the pains, and that was when I realized these were contractions.

The hospital is close to 30 minutes from my parent's house, so it was a hellish ride. I didn't know if I was going to make it there, and I was terrified. Finally, we pulled up to the ER doors. They admitted me immediately. I tried changing into a gown when I realized I was bleeding a lot. They took me into a room and started asking all these questions, hooking me up to monitors and sticking me with IVs.

I was in the worst, most unbelievable pain. I was screaming and begging the nurses to get me something for the pain. Different people kept coming in and asking if this was my first pregnancy. That was the most frustrating thing--I went through about 17 or so hours of unmedicated labor with a hyperstimulated uterus with Brynleigh....I know labor hurts. This time was so much different and worse, and I probably sounded like some addict pleading for a fix, but I felt like nobody was paying attention to my pain. 

Finally, the on-call OB came in. He checked me and said I was complete--this baby was coming right now. They took me to the OR and prepped me for an emergency c-section and put me under. As they were prepping me, my water broke during a contraction.