Whitney's Birth

This may be a little long, but I'll try to add some pictures along the way to keep your interest.  :-)  And I'll leave out as much icky detail as I can.  :-)  

As I mentioned in my post the day before Whitney's arrival, both my mom and sister were able to fly in here for Whitney's arrival.  My mom was already on her way here from Egypt, (which is a whole 'nother post all about God's timing that I am working on writing soon but if you want to hear my mom's side of the story, you can read her recent post on her blog HERE) and my sister caught the next flight out of Phoenix as soon as Sean called her Wednesday afternoon.  When they arrived Wednesday evening, we spent a couple of hours catching up, and I got to show them both all of the stuff we had ready for Whitney.  It was a bittersweet time.  I was so happy to see my mom and sister, but I longed with every fiber of my being that things were different... that Whitney would be born alive and come home with us.  I got to show them her blanket that my sister had bought WHitney for Christmas, the beautiful gown and matching mommy/daughter bracelets that my friend, Heidi made for her.  I showed them the memory making items we had, the book we would read to her and where we wanted her footprints stamped in our Bibles.  

My sister is pretty incredible... she has two little girls (2 years old and 3 months old) whom she has birthed naturally.  She's great at this childbirthing and rearing stuff.  And since I had no idea what I was doing, she spent a little bit of time Wednesday night helping me learn a few breathing tricks and techniques.  Sean and I never had time to tour the hospital or to take any kind of birthing classes... I never even had to watch any of those gross birthing films in health class (private school education?) so I was really going in blind.  It was so great to have Megan there to help me with some of that stuff.  My doctor called me late in the evening on Wednesday to say that everything was ready for me to be at the hospital the next morning at 6:45.  He was going to be trying a new kind of medication to start the labor, and that from what he understands, the delivery should be very fast (compared to other methods of induction, like pitocin or cervidil).  Hmmm, great.  

 The Friday before Whitney was born, Sean and I met with a perinatal hospice called Angel Babies.  The lady we met, Kathy, with was so sweet.  She was going to get us in touch with a nurse at our hosptial to give us a tour before we gave birth.  Well, obviously, that wasn't going to happen now.  But I called Kathy on Wednesday anyways, just to let her know that we were going to be delivering the next day.  She immediately said she was going to get in touch with the nurse and get back with me.  Kathy called me just minutes later and told me that this nurse she'd been telling me about had just arranged with the schedulers to be our nurse for the entire day.  She knew about our situation and from what Kathy said, this nurse is just exceptional in dealing with infant loss births.  I felt a little better that night, knowing that they were expecting us at the hospital.  For months, I'd been worried that I'd go into labor suddenly and we'd get to the hospital and have to explain everything about our situation and that there would just be confusion and heartache.  God, of course, in His Fatherly greatness, took care of that fear.

All night Wednesday, I had contractions.  I hadn't slept in nearly a day and a half, but I did get a little sleep that night.  (Thanks to many of y'all's prayers, I believe!)  I was able to use the breathing techniques my sister had taught me to breathe through them.  I really didn't want to go into the hospital any sooner than I was supposed to so I stuck it out all night.  I woke up for good around 5 a.m.  Sean woke up a few minutes later because by this point, I was breathing like a dragon beside him!  The contractions were getting stronger, but were still manageable.  We got dressed, and much to my surprise, both my mom and sister were bright-eyed, ready to go, too.  We had planned to let mom sleep in a little then meet us at the hospital later, but I'm pretty sure that nothing-- not even the worst jet lag-- could have kept her away that day.  And I am so thankful for all of the prayers you guys sent up on my mom's behalf.  She said she really felt great that day... not too tired at all.  The tiredness came later, but for the day of Whitney's birth, she was great!  So thank you all for those prayers.    

We took one more picture of Sean and I and Whitney in our house before we left. (Had to get the cats in on it, too.)  Then Mom, Megan, Sean and I (and Whitney) huddled in a circle and cried out to God before we left.  When we finally got to the hospital, the area where I checked in had another expectant mom waiting there. Only she was huge... looked like she was about to pop!  She had her overnight bag and both she and her husband were smiling from ear to ear.  We sat way across the room.  Oh, how I pray that someday that will be me.  That we'll come to the hospital and be overjoyed about it.  There was a little confusion about where to take me when I checked in, but it got worked out pretty quickly.  A nurse came down and took me up to the labor and delivery wing.  The room was a lot nicer than I thought it'd be, and I learned that both my mom and sister (as well as Sean, of course) could be with me all day long.  I was worried that they'd make them leave or not allow them both to be there with me.  But again, another worry the Father took care of.  

My nurse, Linda came in.  Since she had talked to Kathy from Angel Babies, she knew a little about our situation.  But she still took about 40 minutes just to talk with me before I even changed into my gown.  She asked me about Whitney, what my wishes were for holding her and being with her after she was born, and she talked to me about the different options in pain medication (again, something I knew nothing about!).  From the very first minute, I could tell that she was there only by God's goodness.  Throughout the entire day, she proved to be such a God-send to us.  She did everything the way I asked for it to be done, she explained everything to me, and I believe she genuined cared about not only Sean and I, but our baby girl as well.  

I got into the fabulous hospital gown and hooked up to several monitors and IVs.  Again, it was so great to have Mom and Megan there.  They helped me with asking questions I hadn't thought about.  Sean was wonderful.  He even made me laugh.  There was such a pull of emotions... we were going to meet our daughter that day!  And for that we were excited beyond all belief.  But we also were going to have to say good bye to our daughter... and that grieved us beyond all belief.  I have never in my life felt such supreme joy and intense sorrow at the same time.  Sean was so sick that day, too... He caught the nasty cold that I was still fighting and it was at its absoulte worst that day for him.  But he managed to stay by my side, rub my feet, hold my hand and make me laugh.  When they hooked me up to the contraction monitor, he thought he needed a fuzzy belt thing too, so he put one on and wore it around the room!  It was so funny.  I love that man.  

Around 8:45, Dr. D came in to begin the induction.  I was still having contractions on my own, but they weren't getting much stronger and I wasn't dialated at all.  He put the pills in and told me to lay flat for 2 hours.  Joy.  For the next hour or so, we all just kinda talked, watched TV a bit and hung out.  Sean's friend Jimmy brought up some speakers for us so that we could listen to music.  This was SOOOOO great!  I cannot even describe how nice it was to have some soothing music going on in the background while I was trying to relax and breathe through the contractions.  As Jimmy was leaving, the contractions started to get stronger.  In fact, I couldn't even ask Sean to rub my feet... I just pointed and said "feet!"  Out of nowhere, the contractions started to come really hard and really fast.  I was using every breathing technique my sister had taught and she was doing such a great job trying to help me keep my cool.  But at one point, I couldn't even breathe between contractions, they were so close together.  I guess that new medicine really was working fast.

About this point, I asked the nurse for the epidural.  The anesthesiologist had very limited windows of time that day when he would be able to give me an epidural, because he had a lot of surgeries scheduled.  I was so glad I caught him when I did-- right before he went into surgery.  Otherwise, I would have done the whole labor without anything.  I know a lot of women do that, and for a brief minute, I felt like a failure for choosing the epidural.  However, no one who has a live deliver gets the induction medicine I did.  It increases the frequency and intensity of natural contractions by about a million degrees (my professional estimation).  :-)  And, I figured that there was going to be enough emotional pain in this day, why  be in physical pain if I didn't need to be?  So, the doctor came in to do the epidural, and after about 20 minutes of it still not working (yikes!) it finally kicked in.  Whew.  Life was good again.  :-)  And I was SO glad I did that.  I was able to relax a bit and I even got to talk to my dad on the phone before he left Cairo to come here (middle picture below).  He'd be there the next day, Friday.

     

A few hours later hour, I started to hear these really weird gurgling, bubbly noises that sounded like they were coming directly out of my belly button!  Really strange.  It was so loud, everyone in the room heard it!  So we called Nurse Linda in, and immediately she said she needed to check me to see how dialated I was.  After she did that, she told me that she thought we were very close.  She could feel a little hand and foot.  She was going to page Dr. D, but in the meantime, she told me not to move or even cough!  Great!  OF course, as soon as she said that I needed to... but I didn't!  I stopped myself.  When Linda left, the whole mood in the room changed.  It was suddenly getting closer.  So real.  In just minutes, our daughter would be born.  Out of the comfort and warmth of my womb that miraculously kept her alive for so long.  Sean turned on the music I had requested and my mom stood at my feet and began to read scripture over us as we cried and tried to prepare for the unimaginable defining moment.  

The music we played was by an incredible South Korean pianist and composer,Yiruma.  We put my favorite song of his, River Flows In You, on repeat for a while.  If you've never heard his music before, seriously, go check out his website and listen to some of his music.  Absolutely stunning.  It takes you to a completely different place to just close your eyes and listen to him play.  I nearly start crying when I hear it.  I need to get his CDs so I can listen to it all the time!  The scripture my mom read was Psalm 145.  A Psalm that Sean and I read over and over throughout our pregnancy.  In fact, its the Psalm that this blog is named after... living in His compassion.  Multiple times in that verse, it says: "The Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all he has made."  That is one of the verses that helped me carry Whitney.  God is good to all he has made; he has compassion on all of us.  He will see us through.  

Linda came in to tell us that Dr. D was at the desk, and just to hold on a few minutes.  Dr. D is a great doctor, but leaves much to be desired in the area of compassion.  He's very high energy and matter-of-fact, so I was trying to also gear myself up for him to come into the room, clap his hands togheter and say "Let's do this!"  Would definitely ruin the peaceful mood of the room.  As I was thinking about that, Linda came back in and told us that Dr. D wanted her to deliver Whitney!  He wasn't going to come in right now.  Honestly, that was more than fine with me.  Kind of another answer to prayer, really!  

I'll spare you the deatils, but honeslty, it was all so beautiful and perfect.  The mood in the room stayed peaceful as Linda gently coached me in what to do.  My sister and Sean were on one side, helping, and my mom was behind my head supporting me.  My sister looked at me during the birth and just told me, with tears in here eyes, "She's beautiful."  Sean held my hand and told me I was doing so good.  Finally, after just a short time, Whitney was born.  Linda took her over to the bassinett to clean her off.  There were no cries from the bassinett.  No first breaths.  Just silence.  The room was so silent.

My sister asked if she could give Whitney her bath.  Of course!  I was so glad she wanted to do that.  Afterall, I couldn't get up and do it myself and I was so unsure of what she would look like.  Sean was able to cut the cord, though it didn't have the same feeling that I'm sure it would if our baby was alive.  But in that, he was able to do something for his daughter that I wasn't able to do.  Megan bathed Whitney, she and Linda measured and weighed her.  Just 13.6 tiny ounces and 10.5 inches long.  Linda kept saying that Whitney was perfect-- all of her anamolies caused by the triploidy must have been on the inside, because outside, she looked just perfect.  So precious. They put her footprints in my Bible, as well as in Sean's and mom's.  They dressed her in a beautiful gown, complete with little bonnett, then wrapped her in a tiny pink blanket.  My mom brought her over to me, and I lost it.  Everyone left and gave Sean and I some time alone with our daughter.  She was beautiful.  Absolutely gorgeous.  I counted all of her finger and toes-- 10 each.  I kissed her face and held her close.  I was a little surprised by the way she looked, because I was expecting to see something more like a full-term baby.  But she wasn't... I was 30 weeks pregnant, but gestationally, she was only about 24 weeks' size or so.  And her body was even smaller.  I didn't understand at first why the nurse said she was perfect, but then I remembered the pictures of babies I'd seen in the womb at 24 weeks, and realized that she really was perfectly formed for her gesetational age.  Its hard to see a baby that small, because that's not really the way its supposed to be.  But despite how tiny she was, she was absolutely beautiful.

    

I can see so much of Sean and I in her, its incredible.  She had long, piano-player fingers like me.  Her second toe is bigger than her first, just like me and my mom.  She had adorable cheeks... I think they would have filled out and been rosy, just like Sean's.  Her eyebrows were so beautiful and perfectly arched and defined.  It was crazy!  She didn't have a lot of hair, but the hair she did have was in little waves all over her scalp... and even the beginning of a few curls.  She'd have been a Shirley Temple, just like me when I was little.  One of my favorite parts about her were here knees!  I know that sounds really silly, but they were just so little and so sweet... so perfectly formed!  Her legs were really long, too!  In one picture I have, she looks almost just like my brother did when he was born at just 27 weeks.  She had a lot of "hampton" features. 

 

We held her all afternoon.  Sean and I read "On the Night You Were Born" with her.  (Thanks, Kim & Miles!)  We passed her around the room.  Mom held her.  Megan held her.  We took tons of pictures.  We cried, we laughed.  We oooh-ed and aaah-ed at her beauty.  Finally, we had to let her go.  Megan changed her into the gown Heidi made for her.  We decided to change her into that one so that I could keep the first gown and cap she was in as a keepsake.  We wrapped her in a different blanket so that we could also keep the black and white one she'd been wrapped in all day, from Aunt Meg.  Linda came to take her from us when we were ready and personally handed her over to the funeral home director.  That was the hardest moment of my life.  I just kept wanting to give her one more kiss.  Hold her one more minute.  Whisper one more thing in her perfectly formed ear.  

    

So that's pretty much it... the overview of Whitney's birth.  Its weird to say this, but it honestly was the most perfect, beautiful, peaceful experience I could have ever imagined/hoped for/prayed for.  We were truly surrounded by the peace that passes all understanding.  Losing Whitney would have hurt regardless of the point in my pregnancy that we lost her.  But knowing all along that she was His from the beginning, and trusting in Him to take her home in His timing was what kept us going.  We loved her with a perfect love her entire life, and that is all she will ever know.  I am forever grateful for the strength God gave every day as we enjoyed the moments of her life He gave us.  

Every day that passes, my heart hurts more and more because we are another day further away from the last time we held her.  It sometimes feels like the reality of her being here is slipping away, minute by minute.  But as the Spirit has to remind me of so often, with every day that we are futher away from the last time we held her here on earth, we are one day closer to holding her again in Heaven.  Forever.  Steven Curtis Chapman's song, Heaven is the Face, is one that I really identify with right now.  He wrote it for his sweet Maria after she passed away.  It talks about how he can't wait to get to Heaven to hold his little girl, and even though he knows that heaven is so much more than just that, that is what he's really looking forward to at this time.  I couldn't agree more.    

    

  

Whitneys Birth Story

This may be a little long, but I'll try to add some pictures along the way to keep your interest.  :-)  And I'll leave out as much icky detail as I can.  :-)  

As I mentioned in my post the day before Whitney's arrival, both my mom and sister were able to fly in here for Whitney's arrival.  My mom was already on her way here from Egypt, (which is a whole 'nother post all about God's timing that I am working on writing soon but if you want to hear my mom's side of the story, you can read her recent post on her blog HERE) and my sister caught the next flight out of Phoenix as soon as Sean called her Wednesday afternoon.  When they arrived Wednesday evening, we spent a couple of hours catching up, and I got to show them both all of the stuff we had ready for Whitney.  It was a bittersweet time.  I was so happy to see my mom and sister, but I longed with every fiber of my being that things were different... that Whitney would be born alive and come home with us.  I got to show them her blanket that my sister had bought WHitney for Christmas, the beautiful gown and matching mommy/daughter bracelets that my friend, Heidi made for her.  I showed them the memory making items we had, the book we would read to her and where we wanted her footprints stamped in our Bibles.  

My sister is pretty incredible... she has two little girls (2 years old and 3 months old) whom she has birthed naturally.  She's great at this childbirthing and rearing stuff.  And since I had no idea what I was doing, she spent a little bit of time Wednesday night helping me learn a few breathing tricks and techniques.  Sean and I never had time to tour the hospital or to take any kind of birthing classes... I never even had to watch any of those gross birthing films in health class (private school education?) so I was really going in blind.  It was so great to have Megan there to help me with some of that stuff.  My doctor called me late in the evening on Wednesday to say that everything was ready for me to be at the hospital the next morning at 6:45.  He was going to be trying a new kind of medication to start the labor, and that from what he understands, the delivery should be very fast (compared to other methods of induction, like pitocin or cervidil).  Hmmm, great.  

 The Friday before Whitney was born, Sean and I met with a perinatal hospice called Angel Babies.  The lady we met, Kathy, with was so sweet.  She was going to get us in touch with a nurse at our hosptial to give us a tour before we gave birth.  Well, obviously, that wasn't going to happen now.  But I called Kathy on Wednesday anyways, just to let her know that we were going to be delivering the next day.  She immediately said she was going to get in touch with the nurse and get back with me.  Kathy called me just minutes later and told me that this nurse she'd been telling me about had just arranged with the schedulers to be our nurse for the entire day.  She knew about our situation and from what Kathy said, this nurse is just exceptional in dealing with infant loss births.  I felt a little better that night, knowing that they were expecting us at the hospital.  For months, I'd been worried that I'd go into labor suddenly and we'd get to the hospital and have to explain everything about our situation and that there would just be confusion and heartache.  God, of course, in His Fatherly greatness, took care of that fear.

All night Wednesday, I had contractions.  I hadn't slept in nearly a day and a half, but I did get a little sleep that night.  (Thanks to many of y'all's prayers, I believe!)  I was able to use the breathing techniques my sister had taught me to breathe through them.  I really didn't want to go into the hospital any sooner than I was supposed to so I stuck it out all night.  I woke up for good around 5 a.m.  Sean woke up a few minutes later because by this point, I was breathing like a dragon beside him!  The contractions were getting stronger, but were still manageable.  We got dressed, and much to my surprise, both my mom and sister were bright-eyed, ready to go, too.  We had planned to let mom sleep in a little then meet us at the hospital later, but I'm pretty sure that nothing-- not even the worst jet lag-- could have kept her away that day.  And I am so thankful for all of the prayers you guys sent up on my mom's behalf.  She said she really felt great that day... not too tired at all.  The tiredness came later, but for the day of Whitney's birth, she was great!  So thank you all for those prayers.    

We took one more picture of Sean and I and Whitney in our house before we left. (Had to get the cats in on it, too.)  Then Mom, Megan, Sean and I (and Whitney) huddled in a circle and cried out to God before we left.  When we finally got to the hospital, the area where I checked in had another expectant mom waiting there. Only she was huge... looked like she was about to pop!  She had her overnight bag and both she and her husband were smiling from ear to ear.  We sat way across the room.  Oh, how I pray that someday that will be me.  That we'll come to the hospital and be overjoyed about it.  There was a little confusion about where to take me when I checked in, but it got worked out pretty quickly.  A nurse came down and took me up to the labor and delivery wing.  The room was a lot nicer than I thought it'd be, and I learned that both my mom and sister (as well as Sean, of course) could be with me all day long.  I was worried that they'd make them leave or not allow them both to be there with me.  But again, another worry the Father took care of.  

My nurse, Linda came in.  Since she had talked to Kathy from Angel Babies, she knew a little about our situation.  But she still took about 40 minutes just to talk with me before I even changed into my gown.  She asked me about Whitney, what my wishes were for holding her and being with her after she was born, and she talked to me about the different options in pain medication (again, something I knew nothing about!).  From the very first minute, I could tell that she was there only by God's goodness.  Throughout the entire day, she proved to be such a God-send to us.  She did everything the way I asked for it to be done, she explained everything to me, and I believe she genuined cared about not only Sean and I, but our baby girl as well.  

I got into the fabulous hospital gown and hooked up to several monitors and IVs.  Again, it was so great to have Mom and Megan there.  They helped me with asking questions I hadn't thought about.  Sean was wonderful.  He even made me laugh.  There was such a pull of emotions... we were going to meet our daughter that day!  And for that we were excited beyond all belief.  But we also were going to have to say good bye to our daughter... and that grieved us beyond all belief.  I have never in my life felt such supreme joy and intense sorrow at the same time.  Sean was so sick that day, too... He caught the nasty cold that I was still fighting and it was at its absoulte worst that day for him.  But he managed to stay by my side, rub my feet, hold my hand and make me laugh.  When they hooked me up to the contraction monitor, he thought he needed a fuzzy belt thing too, so he put one on and wore it around the room!  It was so funny.  I love that man.  

Around 8:45, Dr. D came in to begin the induction.  I was still having contractions on my own, but they weren't getting much stronger and I wasn't dialated at all.  He put the pills in and told me to lay flat for 2 hours.  Joy.  For the next hour or so, we all just kinda talked, watched TV a bit and hung out.  Sean's friend Jimmy brought up some speakers for us so that we could listen to music.  This was SOOOOO great!  I cannot even describe how nice it was to have some soothing music going on in the background while I was trying to relax and breathe through the contractions.  As Jimmy was leaving, the contractions started to get stronger.  In fact, I couldn't even ask Sean to rub my feet... I just pointed and said "feet!"  Out of nowhere, the contractions started to come really hard and really fast.  I was using every breathing technique my sister had taught and she was doing such a great job trying to help me keep my cool.  But at one point, I couldn't even breathe between contractions, they were so close together.  I guess that new medicine really was working fast.

About this point, I asked the nurse for the epidural.  The anesthesiologist had very limited windows of time that day when he would be able to give me an epidural, because he had a lot of surgeries scheduled.  I was so glad I caught him when I did-- right before he went into surgery.  Otherwise, I would have done the whole labor without anything.  I know a lot of women do that, and for a brief minute, I felt like a failure for choosing the epidural.  However, no one who has a live deliver gets the induction medicine I did.  It increases the frequency and intensity of natural contractions by about a million degrees (my professional estimation).  :-)  And, I figured that there was going to be enough emotional pain in this day, why  be in physical pain if I didn't need to be?  So, the doctor came in to do the epidural, and after about 20 minutes of it still not working (yikes!) it finally kicked in.  Whew.  Life was good again.  :-)  And I was SO glad I did that.  I was able to relax a bit and I even got to talk to my dad on the phone before he left Cairo to come here (middle picture below).  He'd be there the next day, Friday.

     

A few hours later hour, I started to hear these really weird gurgling, bubbly noises that sounded like they were coming directly out of my belly button!  Really strange.  It was so loud, everyone in the room heard it!  So we called Nurse Linda in, and immediately she said she needed to check me to see how dialated I was.  After she did that, she told me that she thought we were very close.  She could feel a little hand and foot.  She was going to page Dr. D, but in the meantime, she told me not to move or even cough!  Great!  OF course, as soon as she said that I needed to... but I didn't!  I stopped myself.  When Linda left, the whole mood in the room changed.  It was suddenly getting closer.  So real.  In just minutes, our daughter would be born.  Out of the comfort and warmth of my womb that miraculously kept her alive for so long.  Sean turned on the music I had requested and my mom stood at my feet and began to read scripture over us as we cried and tried to prepare for the unimaginable defining moment.  

The music we played was by an incredible South Korean pianist and composer,Yiruma.  We put my favorite song of his, River Flows In You, on repeat for a while.  If you've never heard his music before, seriously, go check out his website and listen to some of his music.  Absolutely stunning.  It takes you to a completely different place to just close your eyes and listen to him play.  I nearly start crying when I hear it.  I need to get his CDs so I can listen to it all the time!  The scripture my mom read was Psalm 145.  A Psalm that Sean and I read over and over throughout our pregnancy.  In fact, its the Psalm that this blog is named after... living in His compassion.  Multiple times in that verse, it says: "The Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all he has made."  That is one of the verses that helped me carry Whitney.  God is good to all he has made; he has compassion on all of us.  He will see us through.  

Linda came in to tell us that Dr. D was at the desk, and just to hold on a few minutes.  Dr. D is a great doctor, but leaves much to be desired in the area of compassion.  He's very high energy and matter-of-fact, so I was trying to also gear myself up for him to come into the room, clap his hands togheter and say "Let's do this!"  Would definitely ruin the peaceful mood of the room.  As I was thinking about that, Linda came back in and told us that Dr. D wanted her to deliver Whitney!  He wasn't going to come in right now.  Honestly, that was more than fine with me.  Kind of another answer to prayer, really!  

I'll spare you the deatils, but honeslty, it was all so beautiful and perfect.  The mood in the room stayed peaceful as Linda gently coached me in what to do.  My sister and Sean were on one side, helping, and my mom was behind my head supporting me.  My sister looked at me during the birth and just told me, with tears in here eyes, "She's beautiful."  Sean held my hand and told me I was doing so good.  Finally, after just a short time, Whitney was born.  Linda took her over to the bassinett to clean her off.  There were no cries from the bassinett.  No first breaths.  Just silence.  The room was so silent.

My sister asked if she could give Whitney her bath.  Of course!  I was so glad she wanted to do that.  Afterall, I couldn't get up and do it myself and I was so unsure of what she would look like.  Sean was able to cut the cord, though it didn't have the same feeling that I'm sure it would if our baby was alive.  But in that, he was able to do something for his daughter that I wasn't able to do.  Megan bathed Whitney, she and Linda measured and weighed her.  Just 13.6 tiny ounces and 10.5 inches long.  Linda kept saying that Whitney was perfect-- all of her anamolies caused by the triploidy must have been on the inside, because outside, she looked just perfect.  So precious. They put her footprints in my Bible, as well as in Sean's and mom's.  They dressed her in a beautiful gown, complete with little bonnett, then wrapped her in a tiny pink blanket.  My mom brought her over to me, and I lost it.  Everyone left and gave Sean and I some time alone with our daughter.  She was beautiful.  Absolutely gorgeous.  I counted all of her finger and toes-- 10 each.  I kissed her face and held her close.  I was a little surprised by the way she looked, because I was expecting to see something more like a full-term baby.  But she wasn't... I was 30 weeks pregnant, but gestationally, she was only about 24 weeks' size or so.  And her body was even smaller.  I didn't understand at first why the nurse said she was perfect, but then I remembered the pictures of babies I'd seen in the womb at 24 weeks, and realized that she really was perfectly formed for her gesetational age.  Its hard to see a baby that small, because that's not really the way its supposed to be.  But despite how tiny she was, she was absolutely beautiful.

    

I can see so much of Sean and I in her, its incredible.  She had long, piano-player fingers like me.  Her second toe is bigger than her first, just like me and my mom.  She had adorable cheeks... I think they would have filled out and been rosy, just like Sean's.  Her eyebrows were so beautiful and perfectly arched and defined.  It was crazy!  She didn't have a lot of hair, but the hair she did have was in little waves all over her scalp... and even the beginning of a few curls.  She'd have been a Shirley Temple, just like me when I was little.  One of my favorite parts about her were here knees!  I know that sounds really silly, but they were just so little and so sweet... so perfectly formed!  Her legs were really long, too!  In one picture I have, she looks almost just like my brother did when he was born at just 27 weeks.  She had a lot of "hampton" features. 

 

We held her all afternoon.  Sean and I read "On the Night You Were Born" with her.  (Thanks, Kim & Miles!)  We passed her around the room.  Mom held her.  Megan held her.  We took tons of pictures.  We cried, we laughed.  We oooh-ed and aaah-ed at her beauty.  Finally, we had to let her go.  Megan changed her into the gown Heidi made for her.  We decided to change her into that one so that I could keep the first gown and cap she was in as a keepsake.  We wrapped her in a different blanket so that we could also keep the black and white one she'd been wrapped in all day, from Aunt Meg.  Linda came to take her from us when we were ready and personally handed her over to the funeral home director.  That was the hardest moment of my life.  I just kept wanting to give her one more kiss.  Hold her one more minute.  Whisper one more thing in her perfectly formed ear.  

    

So that's pretty much it... the overview of Whitney's birth.  Its weird to say this, but it honestly was the most perfect, beautiful, peaceful experience I could have ever imagined/hoped for/prayed for.  We were truly surrounded by the peace that passes all understanding.  Losing Whitney would have hurt regardless of the point in my pregnancy that we lost her.  But knowing all along that she was His from the beginning, and trusting in Him to take her home in His timing was what kept us going.  We loved her with a perfect love her entire life, and that is all she will ever know.  I am forever grateful for the strength God gave every day as we enjoyed the moments of her life He gave us.  

Every day that passes, my heart hurts more and more because we are another day further away from the last time we held her.  It sometimes feels like the reality of her being here is slipping away, minute by minute.  But as the Spirit has to remind me of so often, with every day that we are futher away from the last time we held her here on earth, we are one day closer to holding her again in Heaven.  Forever.  Steven Curtis Chapman's song, Heaven is the Face, is one that I really identify with right now.  He wrote it for his sweet Maria after she passed away.  It talks about how he can't wait to get to Heaven to hold his little girl, and even though he knows that heaven is so much more than just that, that is what he's really looking forward to at this time.  I couldn't agree more.    

    

  
 

Maybe Tomorrow?

I've stared at the screen for over an hour, trying to find the words to write about my precious daughter.  I want so desperately to share with you about her... about her delivery, her birth, and how perfect it was.  I want to share with you about her memorial service, and the beautiful words that our family wrote for Whitney.  But tonight, the words just aren't there.  Perhaps tomorrow they will flow more eloquently. 

My mom has been with us for two weeks.  It was wonderful having her here, but she had to leave yesterday.  Between the absence of our sweet baby's cry and the lack of any company at our house, there is an eery silence that surrounded our day.  Even the tv noise can't break the silence.  I miss my baby.  Her tiny sweet hands.  Her beautiful face.  Her adorable toes.  And the way she felt in my arms.  

No other words. 

I. just. miss. her.

The awkward silence

 Silence is an awkward thing nowadays in the Wilson household.  For the past 2 weeks we have been incredibly blessed to have family visiting and staying with us and today was our last day visiting with Kim, Sheyenne's mom.  When Sheyenne and I returned home from the airport we were slammed with silence in our home and to be honest it really sucks.  

Yesterday was a horrible day in the fact that we brought Whitney's remains to our home until we can bury her in Cincinnati next to my (sean) mom.  Never in a million years did I picture bringing my first child home in an urn as opposed to sitting in a car seat or in my arms.  This has been incredibly difficult because as the "protector" of the home I feel that I have failed my daughter.  I know that there is nothing that we could have done, but that does not take away from the giant hole sitting in our hearts.  

I can't imagine many of these emotions going away anytime soon, and it's funny that in one day I could write a post about being a proud father and go down the tube and feel like I will never get out of this sadness again.  I told Sheyenne that I felt like I should have written another post called "A Sad Father" because even in the moment of being proud I knew how empty that "proudness"can feel because I miss my girl so so much.  There are many moments when I want to scream to the heavens how unfair this is and how angry I am because I want the silence of my house to be broken by the ear piercing screams of a new born baby wanting a diaper changed or food to be eaten.  But as I listen in my house I hear nothing and this silence says more than any noise I can imagine.   

Through a guy named Brian Hogan, God really ministered to my heart.  He reminded me of truth that is worth being reminded of.  I tend to feel alone most times in my grief.  It is not that I am alone, because there is my wife and family and friends, but there are times when I feel alone from God.  Many times I have thought, God how can you let my daughter die!  Brian reminded me that God knows this pain as well as I do.  I think back to Matthew 27 while Jesus was hanging on the cross.  Alone, naked and dying I picture the world being silent.  For three hours darkness encompassed the land and I have a glimpse into the emotion of that time.  God watched his son die and watched him cry out in pain and agony and could not do anything.  God remained silent.  Upon reflection I could not be more mistaken in my loneliness.  I was reminded that God knows the true depths of my sorrow as he watched his own son die.  I was reminded that God knows my helplessness as he watched the greatest tragedy happen.  God knows the pain of silence as he heard the last breath of his son stop.  

I long for the day to be awaken in the middle of the night by my child crying (notice I said my child and not anyone else's so no baby sitting!).  I long for the silence to be broken in my house by children running around singing and shouting and laughing.  The fear dwells in my heart that my longing will not come to pass but I know that God knows my silence and exactly what I need.  The answer to my pain is found in God's provision.  We have so many wonderful people in our lives and possibly the best family ever.  I cannot tell you all how amazing and wonderful my wife is.  She is great and the best friend I could ever have. 

A proud father

Don't feel like a trend is starting, but I am having diarrhea of the mind (my wife will love reading that) and I figure it is better to write and share my thoughts as opposed to letting them slip away into the unknown regions of my mind where these thoughts will only be found if a therapist uses her special powers of looking into my soul to pry them out.  I cannot help but think as I stare out my window and listen to music (Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack) how lucky I am to have had such an amazing daughter. 

How is it that these special children are able to reach so many different people in a way that could possibly never happen if they were "normal"?  I laugh at the word normal because even though I may seem normal, I couldn't be further from it!  I have read so many blogs about parents who are going through some of the same struggles that I have and their stories have done nothing but minister to my heart as I deal with my issues of pain.  I know so many people have come to know my daughter in a way that is truly amazing, and I have God to praise for that.  I love Whitney so much and I still feel the hole in my life with each waking moment, but I just don't know how else to say it other than I am a proud father of the most amazing daughter ever. 

Our Story

First of all, thank-you for stopping by our blog.  We don’t know what has brought you here, but we are so glad that you’ve stumbled upon our little spot on the web.  Feel free to poke around, look at pictures and read through old posts.  We’d love to hear from you, too so leave a comment if you feel like it.  Through sharing our story, it is our hope and prayer that somehow, our experiences will speak to your heart as much as they have been molding and shaping our hearts along this journey.

  

So where do we start our story?  Boy meets girl?  That’s a good start, but I’ll keep this part brief... Boy meets girl at Bible college... They fall in love, get married, travel the world together, go into ministry, then finally settle down and decide to start a family.  So that’s the gist of how our love story began, but of course there is so much more to it than that.  What’s a good story without some trials, triumphs, challenges and hope?

     

Nice to Meet You

Introductions are good... I’m Sheyenne and I’ve been married to Sean for almost 6 years.  Sean is a local outreach/missions pastor and I work for a non-profit pregnancy care center.  After we’d been married 2 years or so, we decided it was time to start a family.  However, after 3 years of trying to get pregnant, scores of testing, a diagnosis of ‘unexplained infertility’ and some low-level fertility treatments, we decided to start an adoption.  We stopped the fertility meds, and with a great deal of excitement, sent in our application to adopt a baby boy from Ethiopia.  That was the first week of July, 2009.  July 31, on a wishful whim (more so than a realistic hunch) I took a home pregnancy test.  Much to my absolute amazement, it was positive!  For the first time in my life, I saw TWO pink lines!!  We put the adoption on hold for the time being (the program we were adopting through didn't allow simultaneous pregnancy and adoptions) and excited began dreaming and praying for this miracle of a life growing inside of me.

Two Pink Lines!
It was clear from the very beginning that this little life beginning inside of me was all God’s doing.  It was as if God wanted us to know all along that this baby was not conceived by any of our real efforts... Not the medicines, not the testing, not the doctors and certainly not our timing.  (Sidenote: Now that we are at a new chapter in this journey, we have seen God’s timing in so many ways.  But that’s for a completely different post.  I’ll link to it here when I finally write it, so stay tuned.)

Everything was going well in the first trimester of my pregnancy.  I only had a tiny bit of nausea, no puking and for the most part, I felt great!  By my 4th month, I barely had any baby bump showing.  I thought it was just because I have a small build.  From the very beginning, I had an uneasiness about my pregnancy.  I attributed it to the difficulty we’d had getting pregnant, and first-time-mom nerves.  But on the day we went for our “half-way there” ultrasound (I was almost 19 weeks), that feeling got stronger.  Before Sean and I left our car to go into the doctor’s office, I look at him and said, “No matter what happens, we are in this together, right?”  He hugged me, told me I was silly and reassured me he'd be by my side every step of the way.  We prayed then went in to find out the sex of our baby.

Its a Girl!

 Since I work at a pregnancy center, I have the privilege of seeing many ultrasounds.  I can pretty much tell “girl parts” from “boy parts” at first glance.  When the sonographer moved her wand over my still-small belly, I saw the three little tell-tale lines... A girl!  Sean said he knew from the beginning that it was a girl and to be honest, I think we were both slightly disappointed.  (I had thought all along that it was a boy.)  But as the sonographer continued to check out our baby girl, we began to fall in love with her.  While I was watching our baby on the big screen in front of me, I noticed some of the measurements that the sonographer was getting... Her head seemed to measure correctly with where I should be, but her tummy was measuring very small... Several weeks behind.  When the sonographer was taking a close look at her heart, I could see three bright spots that I knew I hadn’t seen before on any 'healthy baby' ultrasounds.  I wasn’t really sure what that all meant, but I knew it wasn’t good.

Something Is Wrong

After the sonographer had thoroughly checked and measured our baby, she told us she needed to go talk to the doctor and she had us wait in the waiting room.  I knew that wasn’t good.  We’d seen several couples go in before us for ultrasounds... They got to just leave when they were done, smiling as they exited while looking at the black and white pictures of their little baby beans.   When we finally got to talk to our doctor, he said there were some ‘soft markers’ that concerned him.  It could mean some kind of genetic problem, but most likely it was nothing.  He just wanted us to go to the Children’s Hospital to have it checked out by a more sophisticated ultrasound machine.  Our joy of finding out the gender had been quickly dampened by the fear of the unknowns and what was to come.  Our doctor told us we needed to get in for that appointment as quickly as possible because we were running out of time.  “Running out of time?  For what?” I thought.  He explained that we only had a limited amount of time left terminate our pregnancy, if something was wrong.  WHAT?!  Was he out of his mind?  Just half an hour earlier, I saw my baby girl’s beating heart on a huge TV screen.  ‘Terminate’ our pregnancy?  Get rid of our baby girl?!  I couldn’t believe what he was saying.  

Sean and I decided to go ahead and go out to eat like we had planned.  (We’d said earlier if it was a girl, we’d go to Olive Garden.  If it was a boy, we’d go to a seafood restaurant in town.)  We ate a great dinner at Olive Garden, celebrated the fact that we now had a daughter, and tried to not worry about what could go wrong.  We chose her name-- Whitney Jill-- and prayed and cried out to God to heal our daughter.  This is pretty much where our story picks up with Sean’s first post HERE.  

In case you don’t have endless hours to read through all our old posts (:-) I’ll catch you up to where we are now... After nearly a month of testing (and being advised multiple, multiple times to 'terminate' our baby), we found out through an amniocentesis that our worst fears were coming true... Our baby had a fatal condition called Triploidy .  She could die any day.  Most babies with triploidy don't make it past 8 weeks' gestation.  It was a miracle our baby had made it to 22 weeks.  We struggled.  We grieved.  We prayed.  We sought God.  But when it all came down to it, we knew that Whitney was God’s from the very beginning, and we chose (against the advice of our doctors) to continue to carry Whitney until God took her home.  We would not choose to stop her heart... That precious heart we saw beating on the screen.  God had blessed us with her little life for some reason, and we determined to honor both God and our daughter by continuing to carry her in love.

Whitney was born into heaven on February 11, 2010 at 12:58 p.m.  She was 13.6 ounces and 26 centimeters (about 10.5 inches) long.  She was perfectly formed.  Beautiful.  

I would be lying if I told you this journey was easy.  I would be lying if I said that I was strong every day.  Multiple times throughout our pregnancy, I needed my husband, family and friends to remind me of God's goodness.  But God is good.  And His loving compassion is written all over the pages of our story.  I hope and pray that you can see it as you read our hearts. This blog shares our honest struggles with life, God and losing our daughter.  It also shares the precious, priceless hope we have in Christ and the promise we are clinging to-- that we will one day hold our daughter in our arms again... And she will be perfect.  Whole.  A new creation.    

Here are some highlights from recent posts:

The Beginning 

The Amnio Appointment 

Ultrasound Pictures!! 

The Diagnosis 

Maternity Pictures

Third Trimester! 

He Sings Over Me (God's Loving Care)

Day Before Delivery 

Whitney's Birth Story

So that's our story.  Like I said before, we'd love to hear from you... what brought you to our website, where you're from, who you are, etc.  But most of all, we hope that the short life of our daughter has some kind of impact on those around us.  She forever changed our lives and the way we view so many things.  We are parents of a baby who never breathed in our arms, but who also never knew anything but perfect love.  We were so blessed to be able to carry her in that love her entire life, and we rest in the knowledge that her life was not in vain.  God is continually using Whitney to shape and mold us into the people He wants us to be.  

First thoughts since Whitney's birth

Ok, here we go...I have been wanting to write for some time now and not even sure on what, but simply to write and share some of my thoughts and emotions from the past few weeks.  It is amazing how quickly everything can change.  I remember packing before a trip 2 weeks ago thinking about how much time we still had with Whitney and even joking in my head how I wished she would come during March Madness so that I could watch some good basketball with her.  I remember coming home and watching the Super Bowl with some friends and thinking nothing really because in my mind we still had 10 more weeks with our baby. 

Well, all that changed and the reality of life came flooding into prospective yet again when we went to the hospital to find that our baby girl's heart was no longer beating.  I wish I had some divine moment then, but I did not.  I just did everything I could to be "strong" and not cry in front of the nurse.  When the nurse could not find Whitney's heart beat I felt betrayed.  It was bad enough knowing that we would not get to see our daughter grow up, but now to not even hold her alive was too much.  What happened to the hope that we were holding on to?  Why could we not even catch a break in that moment and was I asking too much?  It is easy to give an over-spiritualized answer to my questions.  In the end I am fine with not knowing why, if there even is a why, and simply that God loves me and my daughter is with Him.  Well, even after writing that my heart still hurts and the pain hasn't gone away so I guess those weren't the magical words to take away the pain, dang it!

I guess I never thought this was real.  I remember Sheyenne telling me that we were pregnant and the tears of joy that were shed as we rejoiced together and I remember the doctor telling us something is wrong with our baby and the tears of sorrow as we cried uncontrollably together, but there were many moments when these emotions felt so alien and everything felt so unreal.  Even when we went to the hospital on Thursday morning there was still a part of my mind that believed this was all one horrible dream and that soon I would awake from it.  Well, the last part was true and I quickly woke up from my dream world when my wife began feeling the contractions that came one after another as the domino's started to fall. 

I remember after Whitney was born and even after I was able to cut her cord that reality crashed down all around me.  The nurse gave her to Sheyenne and everyone left the room and Sheyenne asked if I wanted to hold my daughter.  I said yes and instantly when that little precious body entered my hands I lost all control of my emotions, the ones that I had tried so hard to keep in the past 24 hours.  Everything that felt like it was not real went away when I finally held my child in my hands and I knew in that lifeless body were also the many dreams that I had when we first found out we were expecting.  I am sorry to be cold, but this is the first time that I have tried to think through my emotions at that moment.  I lost it, I could not even begin to regain any type of composure and I am grateful that no nurse came in because I might be locked up in a crazy house.  I was crying tears of sorrow that have never been felt before as I saw the life that I helped create was in my hands. 

She was beautiful though.  Nothing can compare in the beauty that I saw as I looked at my child, my precious little daughter.  She had my wife's face and it was stunning.  I wrote this in her memorial letter and shared it with my family, but I do think God spared me the pain of having to watch her be taken by another man who could never love her as much as her daddy could.  I am a dad, I am a dad, I am a dad!  This is my pain now.  Am I a father?  Can I be a father when my daughter is in heaven?  My brain is telling me yes right now but I have a hard time getting the message to my heart, because we know if our heart does not believe it then it cannot be true.  I am a dad, and even though I do not get the perks of fatherhood like seeing my girl smile, her running into my lap, or a tax write off; I know I am still a father.  I am still a father.

I wonder what God sees when we are first born.  I don't even want to get theological but I wonder what feelings of love spring up from his heart every time a new born is welcomed into this world.  I wonder what the welcome is like into heaven.  Is it like coming off the airplane to Hawaii and everyone gets flowers around their neck or is like a military welcome at the airport with signs and cheering and hugs and kisses?  I know as a parent I wish I could have welcomed my little girl into heaven but I will settle for the first time I get to see her she will be alive and perfect.  I cannot fathom heaven and I know that our broken views of what it will be like are nothing in light of what heaven will truly be.  I have some images in my mind, and for now that will do.

I praise God for music and being able to redeem all music for his glory.  Many songs have touched my heart and maybe I will share some of those later, but now I want to share some lines from a song by Incubus.  The chorus goes like this:

Love hurts but sometimes its a good hurt, and it feels like I'm alive
Love sings when it transcends the bad things 
Have a heart and try me cause without love I won't survive

It would have been easy to abort and not even think twice about our baby because we knew the pain that would follow.  It would be easy to forget about her and push away anything that reminds us about her to not feel our loss again.  The problem with that is we love Whitney, and with that love I embrace the pain because it reminds me that she is real and that this was not all a bad dream but that it was my dream come true because I am the father of the most beautiful daughter that is running around with Jesus wherever that may be.  I love my girl and I cannot begin to tell you how much I love my wife and how amazing she is.  That is enough for now, and I cannot tell you all who have followed our journey how much you mean to us and how your support has encouraged us through our dark days.  Your prayers have all been felt and answered.