Jacob

It was a beautiful Easter!  The weather was mild and the sun was out.  I was feeling energetic as the discomfort of the first trimester of my third pregnancy was behind me.  After dealing with 12 weeks of unpleasant nausea, I was hopeful that the worst was over.  Decked out in my favorite periwinkle, full length maternity dress, I was able to enjoy the feast set before us at Bob's aunt's house.  Four-year-old Kayla was so cute in her little Easter dress and hair bow.  I just loved to dress her up whenever possible.  We still had to keep a close eye on little Robbie as he toddled around the house, but it was a wonderful celebration.  I remember coming home after a full day of celebration. I felt content and excited about the little one growing inside me.  I was now 16 weeks along.

Monday morning came with the dawn.  I woke up and started my morning routine, reviewing my to-do list in my head.  Hm, that's strange.  I noticed some spotting.  Was something wrong?  I've heard that can happen, so I wasn't terribly alarmed.  I called the doctor as a precaution.  She had me schedule an ultrasound for that afternoon.  Though I was nervous, I was also excited to have the uncertainty dispelled.  Everything was going to be okay.  Bob went with me to this appointment. He had been there for the previous ones. It seemed like any other ultrasound.  The technician didn't indicate any issues, but they usually don' t.  She told us before leaving the room that the doctor would come in to confirm the results.  We waited.

When the doctor came in, her sober face hinted at what she was about to say.  "I am so sorry, but no heartbeat was found."  The news took my breath away.  This can't be happening!  It was like having the rug pulled out from under me. In that brief moment all the hopes and dreams we had in this new member of our family vaporized with the words "no heartbeat".  A deep grief and emptiness replaced the shock.  We had lost our baby.

The doctor explained that in a short time, I could expect to experience some cramping and bleeding.  Then my body would give up the baby in miscarriage. In our trance of grief, we went home to wait.  The next morning, I began to feel uncomfortable.  As the cramping increased, I realized that these were birth pains of a soul we would never get to know on this side of heaven. With all this going on, I still had to care for 2 little ones who could not comprehend the loss we were experiencing.  About mid-morning, I was on the phone with Bob, updating him on my condition when all of a sudden I experienced what seemed to be my water breaking.  I vividly remember both Kayla and Robbie standing in the kitchen with me, horrified and crying as blood gushed onto the white linoleum.  I ran to the bathroom just in time to catch the baby in the palm of my hand as it slipped out.  Time stood still as I closely examined our little one.  I observed his over-sized head that reminded me of an alien, but was mesmerized by his form. Such detail in his little eyelids, hands and feet.  He was still and silent.  What could have caused his heart to stop beating?  I might never know.

The rest of the day seemed so surreal.  I was bleeding profusely.  A "D & C" was  scheduled, but needed to be expedited.  I found a little box to put the baby's body in to take with me to the hospital.  We called some friends from church who rushed over to care for Kayla and Robbie and bring meals while Bob and I headed to the hospital.  Though our grief was raw, we felt so loved and cared for by our church family.

Arriving at the hospital, the bleeding was constant. We were both alarmed at the loss of blood.  Bob insisted that I be taken back right away.  We requested an autopsy be performed on the baby. We wanted to know if a cause of death could be determined.  Also, we wanted to know the gender of our baby.  We didn't have the presence of mind at the time to inquire about burial practices for miscarried babies.  We took one last look at our baby and handed the box to the nurse, knowing we would not see him again. I donned my hospital gown and was assigned a bed..  Time seemed to drag on as I lay waiting, still bleeding.  I felt like I was fading away.  I don't think they realized how much blood I had lost, but finally I asked Bob to call someone over to check on me.  The nurse realized that I needed to be attended to quickly, so I was prepped for surgery.

As I went home to recover, the grief went from being a fresh, sharp pain to a stale, nagging empty feeling that brought tears at unexpected moments.  I was so grateful to have my two little ones to wrap my arms around. They brought me comfort.  Weeks later we received the results of the autopsy.  The cause of death was undetermined, but though I was 16 weeks along, the baby's growth had stopped at 12 weeks.  It was a boy.

We didn't do all the things that people do for their miscarried children like having a public service or officially naming him, Bob told me later that he had in mind to call our baby Jacob.  I like that name. Mother's Day came upon us.  Another wave of grief overtook us.  As we prepared for church, Bob handed me a little velvet box.  As I opened it, tears blurred my vision as I looked at a pendant necklace with an image of a mother holding a baby on it. Though it brought on more heartache in our sense of loss, the necklace was a memorial of the valuable little person God allowed us to fall in love with.  (Later we also found a picture that reminded us of our little Jacob. We hung it on the nursery wall.)

From that time on, we spoke freely to the children of their brother.  They referred to him as "Baby In Heaven".  We all look forward to meeting him when we reach heaven.  I have a necklace of baby charms with gemstones representing all of our children by their birthstones.  We've included Jacob's, placed between Robbie's and J.J.'s.  We lost him in April. His stone is a diamond.  J.J.'s middle name is Jacob in memory of his brother.  It is significant to him that he is carrying on his brother's name.