Emmy part 1

Im trying to come to terms with it. I'm trying to let myself heal and I feel this strong urge to tell my story. So here it is, the story of our daughter Emmy, and how her short time with us filled our hearts with more love, joy, pain, and self reflection than we could ever have imagined. Coming to terms that in reality, we have no control, and learning how to embrace that.

I should start at the beginning. Where I thought I had control of my life. 

We found out I was pregnant late August, early September of 2013. I took a test and instantly those tiny little blue lines appeared in a plus sign. I sat in the bathroom for a minute just smiling to myself. I was in shock at how easy it was to get pregnant this time. With Izzy it took the better part of a year. I know that's nothing compared to some peoples struggles, but to me, it was a lifetime of negative thoughts, and thinking it was never going to happen. Anyways, I sat in the bathroom, smiling and then finally going downstairs to tell Matt. 

He looked up at me, knowing instantly by the smile on my face that it was positive. That still didn't stop him from double checking the stick for himself. I'm pretty sure he was in disbelief. Like something had to be wrong with the stick or something. I climbed up on his lap, and nuzzled my face to his and said, "we are going to have another little babe." 

The wait for that first doctors appointment is the worst. The worst. I was becoming so impatient. I was also struggling with keeping the news to myself. I was so excited. Around eight weeks that all changed. 

In the shower one evening I lost something that looked like an egg sack. I stood there, trying to convince myself that it was nothing. After all I didn't have my contacts in or glasses on, and I am pretty blind. It was probably nothing. A good hour went by before I told Matt we needed to go in so I could get checked. 

On the way to the ER, I started crying thinking it was over. I said to Matt, "I shouldn't have told anybody." He replied with a sympathetic look. He never knows what to say when I cry, and that's ok. Most of the time I just need a hug. 

We walked into the ER and explained what had happened. The wait seemed to last forever. Finally we got called back. The nurse asked me all the routine questions. I know that's her job, but I was anxious, and annoyed. I wanted to know if I lost the baby or not, and I wanted to know now. 

They wheeled me into the ultrasound room. When she pulled it up on the big screen, there my little babe was, all wiggly and perfect. What a relief. What a miracle. What a gift. 

But it wasn't over yet. I had a quite large tear in my uterus. And it was bleeding all over the babies sac, which could mean, if I wasn't careful, I could lose the baby. 

So I was put on bed rest and was to make an appointment with my doctor in one week. 

Bed rest is not easy with an almost two year old. Especially when you are trying to plan her birthday party. One week finally passed and I was in the doctors office. The news wasn't bad, but not good. Still bleeding, more bed rest. Sigh. I was so frustrated. I know that sounds silly, I was so grateful that my baby was still ok, but at the same time I was feeling so guilty that Izzy's birthday party had to get canceled. I felt like she wasn't getting one hundred percent from me, and that made me feel awful. Luckily my amazing families planned not one but two parties for her that I could go to and just lay on the couch. I had to keep reminding myself that she was so little, she would not even remember that I told her we were going to have a party at the zoo. She remembered, but she was ok with the promise that we would take her soon. My sweet girl, always so patient and kind. 

A week and a half later I got the ok to get off bed rest. My tear was almost healed, the baby looked good. Thank goodness. The doctors assistant told me how lucky I was. That things like this don't usually end up with a happy ending. As I walked out to my car I took a big sigh of relief. God was on my side. He was watching out for me. Later I'll get into how I would come to question God and everything I thought I knew. 

As time went by, and my belly got bigger, I got more excited! Around 16 weeks I just had to know what I was having, so I went down to Salt Lake with Bri and found out. Another girl! Sisters, future BFFS. The thought of that made me smile. Even though I will admit I was about ten percent sad I wasn't having a boy at that time. After all, we thought this would be our last baby. That feeling only lasted for a minute and I was back to being excited. 

I had a pretty great pregnancy. Except for the horrible back pain. I couldn't complain much. Around February, we got everything we needed for our new addition. Which wasn't much because we had almost everything from Izzy. I was so proud of myself for not going money crazy. Clothes wise I only bought about four new things. My favorite of those, was by far the matching pink and mint colored bicycle print dresses and pants I got for Izzy and Emmy. Matching, sisters, little, tiny. What isn't adorable about all of those words!? 

My third trimester. Finally! Finally! I swear the day my third trimester started I cried a little because I was so relived that this pregnancy would soon be over. I could fit into some sort of normal clothes again. I could walk upstairs with out having to rest halfway. I could pick up Izzy for more than .5 seconds at a time. But most of all I would get to meet our new daughter. I was seriously looking forward to those post labor pictures. You know, the one where the siblings meet for the first time and the older sibling kisses the baby on the head. The ones where you all crowd over the hospital bed and the mom looks like crap, but she doesn't care because her smile is glowing and she feels complete and utter joy because she just got to meet her new son or daughter. I was already planning it out in my head. I needed to find Izzy a "big sister" shirt. So excited, but nervous. Two kids is a lot different than one. I kept telling myself that I could do it. 

Finally week 38 came. My doctors visit went great. Her heartbeat was strong and she scheduled me to be induced on that following Monday. One week, two days. So close. I would later come to regret wishing my pregnancy away. Wishing it would go by faster. Never again will I take that for granted. 

The day after my appointment. It was a Saturday. Matt, Izzy, and I got up and started our day. I remember this day like it was yesterday. I went to breakfast at herms with Ashley. We talked for two hours like we always do. Then Bri and I went to Tina's baby shower. A good day. A busy day. So busy I didn't notice until I got home that I hadn't felt Emmy move all day. 

To be honest, the time line of the next events are all blurry. All I know is they happened. I ate dinner thinking that would wake her up. Nothing. I got in the bath. Nothing. I drank really cold water. Nothing. 

I'm a known worrier. I get that from my mother (sorry mom, but it's true.) I started to worry, no scratch that, I started to panic. I called people to get their advice. I finally decided that I would wait till morning. But as soon as I made that decision I changed my mind. I called the doctor. She told me to go in right away. We dropped Izzy off with Ashley and Devon. They would take good care of her. She loves them. Plus we wouldn't be gone very long right? 

The drive there, I was strangely calm. Almost like I knew what was coming. I told Matt I knew something wasn't right. He told me that everything was going to be fine. He was taking care of me with his words, or at least trying to. I'm so grateful to this man, for how he takes care of me.

We checked in. Matt was trying desperately to put a smile on my face. He even stuck straws up his nose. 

The nurse came in and put the belly monitors on. She couldn't find a heartbeat. She said something sweet about how sometimes it's hard to find one with the tools she was using. She would call for an ultrasound. My concern grew. Finally the ultra sound tech came in. She didn't turn the monitor right away. Not until I asked her to see it. Nothing. I saw nothing. My heart sank. I held on to the tiny glimmer of hope that this was all just a big mistake, that she was fine. The ultra sound tech said the nurse would be right back. She couldn't even make eye contact with me. I asked while she was walking out "you can't find a heartbeat?" She simply said "no." 

I heard the nurses asking in the hall when my doctor was coming in to talk to me. Then I knew. I knew she was gone. I started to cry, Uncontrollably. I had to explain to Matt that she was gone. He was in denial. And shock, we were both in shock. 

I had to call my mom, I needed my mom. No matter how old you get, at hard times, you always need your mom. I called her, I don't remember our exact conversation but it was along the lines of "mom I need you, come now" then her asking if the doctor was sure she was gone. "Yes they are sure." 

My doctor got there. I'm not going to say her name. But let me just tell you, she is the kind of doctor all doctors should strive to be like. Her kindness, sincerity, honesty, concern, and genuine love for her patients is what I give a lot of credit to, for making it through these next hours. She's amazing. I am eternally grateful to her. Also to the nurses that were so unbelievably kind to us. Logan regional hospital, you hired some good ones. 

My doctor got there, she sat down and held me and Matt as we cried. She cried with us. Her words were soft and kind. She told me it wasn't my fault. That's where my mind was at, it was my fault. She sat with us, it seemed like forever. Sometime in there my mom arrived. Like I said, all a jumble of a timeline. She gave us options. I could go home and come back in the morning, or I could be induced tonight. Wait,what?! I have to give birth to her?! For some reason that never crossed my mind. I guess I just assumed that they would give me a C-section. How I wanted a c-section. 

I had to give birth to her. I had to somehow wrap my mind around that. I didn't want to, I was terrified. I kept telling my mom and Matt I was so scared. My mom told me she would do it for me if she could. I believe her, I see in her eyes the love she has for me. The tears continued to fall, I could have filled up an ocean. 

I decided I wanted to be induced tonight. They started me on the pitocine. All of the sudden I wanted Izzy, I yearned for her, I needed her. I would do anything to get to her. I wanted to hold her and tell her how sorry I was that her little sister wouldn't be coming home. How sorry I was for all the missed memories, sister talks, giggles, hugs and so much more. I wanted to tell her I would die and leave her sister here for her if I could. I wanted to hold her and never let her go. 

Labor was a slow process. In my eyes it lasted for days. The minutes ticked by, giving me anxiety attack after attack. Sometime around 11 pm everyone tried to go to sleep. They kept telling me to sleep. Ya right. I was wide awake. My mind racing, tears streaming down my cheeks. I pleaded with god. I said over and over in my head "please god just bring her back." That thought was on repeat. I thought that it was all a dream for awhile. I would wake up and everything would be fine. I convinced myself of it. I was going crazy. I started to get angry. How could this be happening? Why me? I was so angry. 

After Izzy was born I had postpartum. Really severe postpartum. So severe I feel like I missed out on most of the first year of her life. I grieved that for a long time. I was finally getting over that grief. I was finally moving forward, and now I have lost my other daughter. Not only would I have to miss the first year of her life, but her whole life. She was gone. How does one wrap your mind around that?