Holding Their Own

I went to Mac on Saturday morning to see Erin and the babies. Rhonda and Tim (and Isaiah) came down, so I met them. We had put together a basket of goodies to bring her.

When Jairus was born and we were in hospital for SO long, it was the first experience I'd really had with hospitals. His birth was the first time I'd ever been admitted. The only other times I remembered any significant hospital encounters (other than emergency room visits) were when my grandfather and great-grandfather died, a few friends gave birth, a foster child got the croup and my dad had a couple surgeries (gall bladder and apendix, I think). All this to say, that I had no idea how much a hospital stay turns your life upside down.

Of course, lots of people came to visit me and Jairus in the hospital. We got lots of flowers, baby gifts--usually clothes. One friend thought to give me some nice 'pampering' things, and a couple others called in advance and asked me if I had any cravings for food (I think they brought me pizza and cheesecake). Some people came and didn't bring anything. Perfectly fine.
But I tell you, I will never forget a visit from the pastor of the church that we had left the previous year. He and a few others from the church came and gave us....a parking pass.
When the OB and the geneticist told us halfway through the pregnancy that Jairus would have to stay in hospital for a bit, parking was the last thing on our minds. It came quickly to the front, when I was suddenly in hospital for 5 days, and Jairus for 2 months. We really didn't understand what Jairus' problems meant--we had thought that he would need extra oxygen when he was born, and then we'd go home. Since we hadn't yet taken control of our finances, that was alot of money to spend on our car, expecially when we hadn't even considered we'd need to do that. But someone at that church really put their brain to the task and figured out what could be a tremendous help to us. Flowers are nice, clothes certainly are needed too, but that parking pass was Christ's love in action.

Since then, I've endeavoured to be thoughtful and sensitive to families in need. I'm sure I've overlooked plenty of opportunities, but I know I've taken a few too. Having been in Erin's shoes, I thought of a few things she might need and enjoy. Rhonda and Tim and a few other friends of Erin and Kevin helped out too. I hope it'll make the next many weeks a little easier for them.

So we went up and found Erin returning to her room after visiting the babies. She was looking well and we all headed back to the NICU, as Erin said we could go see. Unfortunately, the usual hospital politics and lack of communication reared their ugly heads, and Erin was unable to bring us in, as brusquely stated by the highly attentive front desk worker. Bummer. But we saw polaroids. It was hard to tell exactly how big the girls were, because the pictures lacked a point of reference, but they did look a good size. Erin said their little feet are barely 2 inches long.

I couldn't help but think of Hayden when I looked at those pictures. Sometimes I wished I had seen him. But I have a pretty vivid imagination.

So the twins seem to be doing well. They're being fed by NG tube (through their noses) and Erin is pumping breastmilk for them. (You GO girl!) They might be able to start nursing in3-4 weeks. If they are still doing well by 32 weeks, they could be transfered back to Barrie until they're up to enough weight to go home.

Good--no, GREAT News!

I talked to Rhonda this morning. The girls came in at a whopping 2.5 pounds each! Yes, I know, that sounds tiny, but that's amazing for 28 weeks twins!!

They've been called Gwen, short for Gwenivere (I have no idea of spelling and that looks wrong to me) and Meg, short for Margaret.

Even more amazing is that they are both OFF THEIR RESPIRATORS!

Ooo, I hope this keeps up. Very encouraging indeed. And even though mom had to have the second one by emergency c-section, she's doing really well, says Rhonda.

Keep up the praying!!

---Oh, and if you'd like to do something more tangible than pray, than drop me a line--A bunch of us are putting together some gift cards and such to food places near Mac and the more the better!

Early Girls

On Monday, I was talking to my sister-in-law, Rhonda, who's one of my best friends. Her and Tim live in Barrie, they've got 3 little boys (Elijah, Josh and Isaiah) and little girl Micah should be joining the family in about 6 weeks....

Their church does small groups and Tim and Rhonda always speak highly of the little gatherings. They seem to become really close friends with all the families in their group and even keep in touch with those who move away. Right now, there seems to be a plethora of pregnant ladies in their group, and one of them was Erin.

I can say was, because she gave birth yesterday. This past weekend, she was about 28 weeks along with twin girls when the signs of labour began. She went to the local hospital, but they warned her that they were not equipped to deliver these babies before 32 weeks. (What would they have done if the babies had just come out?) To further complicate the problem, the hospital was reporting that no other major hospitals in the province were able to take her (too full?). The proberbial rock and a hard place.

I'm not sure what changed, but sometime on Monday or Tuesday, McMaster became a possibility. So Erin was transfered on Tuesday. Things were looking good labour wise--contractions had slowed down, but Erin was told that she would not go home before these babies were born, and they hoped she could make it to 34 weeks. If the babies came earlier, then they would have to stay for a number of weeks in the NICU, so either way, Mac was now their new home for a couple months.

It's always difficult when an unexpected hospitalization occurs...specially if one is self employed, which Kevin is. They were looking at the prospect of many weeks of Erin and/or baby girls in the hospital, unable to care for the other two children and 1.5 hours away from home--and he doesn't exactly get sick leave. It was looking like he'd be spending alot of time on the road between Barrie and Hamilton...

Last night when I got home from choir, James told me that Rhonda had called: the girls came yesterday. I don't know how big, or their names or anything, but apparently they are doing alright. I believe their chances are good--around 80%, but this family still needs much prayer.

Mystery Solved

Over the last few months, I've had a few people say they've tried to leave a comment on my blog, but it wouldn't show up. And I'd be confused because I get an email whenever someone leaves a comment on my blog and then I can decide if I want to post it and I hadn't gotten any such emails....

Well, I guess with the changes blogger has made, that's no longer the way it works. I finally got around to switching to the 'new' blogger and lo and behold!! All these comments waiting for me to moderate them!!

So, my apologies to everyone who's left comments and thought I was ignoring you. Not the case! It was rather exciting to read all these lovely comments....even if they were a few months old. Hopefully that won't happen now that I've upgraded.

And even though I said I wasn't going to post anymore about the baby, I thought I should just add one P.S. My comments last post were not in any way to guilt anyone who hadn't expressed their condolences. I've had wonderful support from 99.9 percent of the people in my life and it's helped immensely. I just know that figuring out what to say to people in pain is a hard thing, and now that I've been on the other side, I thought I'd offer some suggestions.

And speaking of pain, James lost his grandma over the holidays. She was quite old (96 years) and had really gone downhill the last few years since she lost her husband, so it was in some ways, a relief. And to know that she's with him, and the two sons she lost--one at six years old to polio, one at 3 days and whom I named Jairus (Donovan) for, is really nice. And I have to admit, it was another nice feeling to think she's with Hayden, maybe holding him...

(OK, so maybe I can't stop posting about him...!)

Well, I've just learned that a children's choir I'd been asked to take on in Grimsby is not going to go forward. So disappointing....

We got SO much done over the holidays!! When we first moved, we bought new laminate flooring from Home Depot because it was on sale, and we wanted to put down new floor in the kids' rooms and the room James will be using as his studio/office. We got it laid in the girls' room soon after we moved. (30 year old Cookie Monster blue carpet was really clashing with the Princess Purple walls...!) but then we ran out of underlay to do the other rooms and didn't have the extra money to go buy it. We got a Home Depot gift card for Christmas from Jamie's grandma, so off we went to buy underlay. James and my brother Paul (home from basic training for the holidays) got Jairus' floor down on the Friday before New Years, and the next day, James and I did the office. It looks SOOO much better....it just had stick on tile before, but the worst was that it had become the catch-all room for all the boxes we hadn't unpacked. No, we're really not terrible procrastinators....we just need more bookshelves, and half the boxes were James' studio equipment, so they just needed a space to be organized in. Plus we had set up the extra bed in there--a temporary measure as we'd had a fairly consistant stream of guests over the past 6 months who needed a place to sleep.
It's such a GREAT feeling to get organized and accomplish some of the plans we have for our house. Next we're hoping to get the basement finished off because we're starting homeschool soon....

Oh yes, we're really going to do it. I've thought highly of homeschooling for many years. When I was in Chicago, I met a few homeschooling families there and I just loved the way they operated. I saw in their families many positive traits that a) Seemed directly correlated to the fact that they homeschooled, and b) Were things I wanted to see developed in my family.

As Jairus got older, I started doubting that homeschooling would be the best route for him. I didn't want my own desires to homeschool to overshadow what was best for him. But after about a year and half of lots of thinking, research, reading and talking with friends, family, and others who would know, I've decided that home is the best place for him. I'm real excited! I've started gathering the books and materials I'll need to get started. My friend Karen loaned me a great book on scheduling in the home and my mom bought me a huge 'get-started' book that is positively overloaded with, I think, all the info I'll need. I've been thinking about what method of homeschooling I'd like to do: you'd never guess there's so many ways to do it!

And so back to the basement....Since the kids' toys and the new little Ikea table and chairs are down there, I think I'd like to make it our main homeschooling room. I salvaged a Little Tykes art easel from my parents' house that we put down there, so that the kids can do painting and chalking, just like at preschool! We already have a million and one books....now we just need walls and a ceiling, and a floor. What's there will do for now, but it'll be nice to make it into a cosy, well organized room that we'll accomplish lots in.

So that's what I'm working on now!

A week ago yesterday

We buried Hayden in Simcoe.

At first, I didn't want to do that. At the hospital, the social worker talked to us about our options for his care. The thought of a grave, a stone, a cemetary....too much. We thought we would just leave it to the hospital.

But a week or so later, James was doing a service call at a funeral home in Jarvis, just minutes outside of Simcoe. Jamie's family is from Simcoe, in fact, he lived there for much of his childhood. He got talking with the funeral directors, members of the Salvation Army there, and asked them about how they dealt with miscarriages---if they dealt with them.
They said that they did have families in a few times a year, asking for help with the burial of an early lost baby. As it turns out, they don't charge for any of the services, because "if we have to make our money off of babies, we're getting out of this business". James was really pleased with alot of what they said. There is already a family plot in a cemetary in Simcoe and we got permission to use a small part of it....

So we contacted the hospital and found out that it wasn't too late. We could still have Hayden.
Everything seemed to fall into place....I had a beautiful sense of peace that the Lord was setting this up for us. I was finishing up my Christmas shopping and I went into the General Store at Eastgate. There, in a gardening booth in the back, I found a flat stone with a poem carved on it:

So after I stood there bawling for a moment, I snapped it up and bought it. I took it to the monument place down the road and they engraved his name and the date on it.

And on Wednesday, Dec. 27th, James and I, my parents, his parents and an aunt from the area traveled to Simcoe and laid him to rest. Jamie's dad said a nice prayer and we placed him right next to the big Kent stone already there. It felt nice to see his place next to that grand stone with his last name already on it.

I don't want to spend alot of time posting about this, because I know that it's sad for people to read; hard to read for those who've gone through it....but perhaps helpful as well. I've learned that not everyone is treated as well as we were. If they went through the emergency room, or if they were earlier in their pregnancies...hospitals just aren't as sensitive as they should be.

But I wanted to just say a few more things, and then that should be it. It's about that often wondered question: What to say?

What to say to your friend or co-worker, your family member or whomever, who has just lost a baby?

Perhaps others would say differently, but I feel very strongly now about the answer. Just say something. Don't assume that nothing will be better than a bungled condolence. It's totally not. When you say nothing, the grieving mom or dad hears the message that sends: You're not really suffering anything worth my saying something.

The social worker in the hospital pointed out that my choir kids needed to be told something. They knew I was pregnant and to bypass an explanation for my absence would have been cruel and insensitive to them. Plus then I would have been left to deal with questions when I returned; questions that might have been hard to answer. She also gave me a 'sample script' to be passed along to the children. Once they knew, the kids would have been compelled to say something to express their sadness for me, but often they would not know how, so a simple thing to do was to give them some words. Her suggestion was, "I'm sorry this has happened to you, Mrs. Kent". I thought that was a good idea and to my knowledge, that's what was done.

It's not only children that sometimes need a script. Want to say something? Don't know what to say?

I'm so sorry this happened to you.

That's all you need to say. That tells me that you know this is awful, you would feel awful too. That tells me that you recognize that Hayden was a person, he was loved and will be remembered. That I have a right to grieve, because he was more than a bunch of cells, a blob of tissue, a fetus.

He was my baby.

Another one won't take his place. Because people are not replaceable. My other children have made this process somewhat easier, and caused me to treasure them even more, but it's not 'ok' because I already have three.

Just a few tips, in case you were wondering.

Random Thoughts

I've seen alot of people blog with this title, and never thought I would, because, well, so many other people do it. I don't like doing what other people commonly do. That's why I named my kids as I did.

But here they are.

I love my midwife. What a beautiful woman. She's been so amazing the past few weeks. I never thought I would feel a closer bond with her, then after birthing my first three. This fourth has ironically done that.

I'm 99.9% done my Christmas shopping and have not gone into debt. How amazing is that?

We held a memorial service for Hayden Jack. It was really nice, but hard. Our families came--which meant so much to us. My grandparents, Jamie's parents, his sister, brother and their families. My brother Corey and his girlfriend came, which surprised me. Even after reconciling with him, he's still....distant from the family. The only one not there was Paul, who was still in QC at basic training.
Over my years of singing, the Lord often leads me to songs. So many times I'll show up for a service and sing a song that later proves to be totally complimentary to the sermon, even though the pastor and I wouldn't have communicated. When I was carrying my children, I spent much of the 9 months thinking of what song I would sing for them at their dedications. For Jairus, I chose 'Over and Under' from the McCaughey septuplet CD. Cindy Morgan, one of my favourite christian artists composed and performed the song. For Honour, I chose 'I Am' by Nicole Nordemann. Not really a baby song, but....a lifetime song. I love it. And for Verity, I found an older Twila Paris song, off her lullaby CD, called "Your Whole Life Long". It is a faith statement for how I envision my children raised: "I pray that you will follow Him, your whole life long....".
So what song to sing for a baby that won't have his whole life long?

Well, first of all, I couldn't sing it. I knew it was going to be difficult enough to get through the service. I would just play the CD.

It's been nearly 6 months since we moved, and I'm still not completely unpacked. There was no place to set up the CD shelf and the player we've had for longer than we've been married. (Ok, it was Jamies). So the box sat down in the room that will be Jamie's office/studio. With Christmas approaching, I had decided that 6 months without music was TOO LONG. And I HAD to listen to my Christmas music. So I pulled the shelf up and set it in the living room--not and ideal spot, but it would do. And I started unpacking all the CD's. Honour was with me, and she puttered through the discs. Suddenly she spots a lullaby CD that Marlene Penman gave me at one of the kids' births. It has Precious Moments pictures all over it. Honour, of course, insisted on listening to it. I stuck it on. The first song was a remake of Mercy Me's, "I can only Imagine". I sat and listened, and thought.

I can only imagine

What it will be like,

when I walk

By Your side

I can only imagine

What my eyes will see

When your face is before me

I can only imagine

I can only imagine

Surrounded by Your Glory

What will my heart feel?

Will I dance for you, Jesus?

Or in awe of You, be still?

Will I stand in Your presence,

Or to my knees will I fall?

Will I sing Hallelujah?

Will I be able to speak at all?

I can only imagine

I can only imagine

I can only imagine

When that day comes

When I find myself,

Standing in the Son

I can only imagine,

When all I will do,

is forever--

Forever worship You

I can only imagine

I can only imagine

And then, my paraphrase of the chorus,

Surrounded by your glory, what will his heart feel?
Will he dance for you, Jesus?

Or in awe of You, be still?

Will he stand in Your presence,

Or to his knees will he fall?

Will he sing Hallelujah?

Will he be able to speak at all?

I can only imagine

I can only imagine

So I played it. I think it was real nice.

My daughter talks to herself alot. I wonder if it's because her siblings can't talk yet. Do you think I should be worried?

So we got a call from the hospital last week. It was a yucky call. The bottom line is that the pathologist claims there was nothing wrong with Hayden. Even though the nurse, and my midwife, and my mom, all saw him and felt there was something not right, the powers that be disagree.

We fought this a little. Asked for a second opinion (apparently not an option). Asked for clarification. It seems that their idea of clarification is repeating what you've already been told.

On one hand, this has an element of relief. Our boy didn't have problems like Jairus. We perhaps don't have some genetic curse coursing through our veins.

On the other hand, I don't believe it. My last ultrasound with Jairus (of seven) showed that his birth defects had 'suddenly' corrected themselves. Everyone was thrilled---except me. I didn't believe it, and good thing I didn't. Sure enough, when he was born, all was as the previous six ultrasounds had claimed. These doctors might be brilliant, educated, well studied, top of their class, holding the highest pathology position in Canada.....but they can still make a mistake. And I think one was made here.

But I don't think there's anything more we can do. And when it comes down to it, it's in the Lord's hands whether or not our next child is healthy, whether he dies too, or if he's born with problems lesser, worse then, or just like Jairus. It's out of our hands. And it's a good thing too, because it's a responsibility I wouldn't want for all the world.

I have, a perfectly wicked case of pinkeye.

I'm 32 years old, and I have PINKEYE!

It's realy brutal---my left eye was nearly swelled shut until after lunch. Forget pink, my eye is a brilliant shade of crimson. It's watering, itching, burning, hurting....

Are you feeling it yet?

(Wicked chuckle)

Hayden Jack Kent

Thank you everyone who's been praying. I never thought I could handle going through anything remotely like this....but greater is He who is in me. Your prayers are working.

On Tuesday the 21st, I had an ultrasound at 8am. First a tech who was 'in training' took a few pictures, then excused herself to get a more experienced tech to finish, as she had told me up front she would be doing. I had a bad feeling because she had asked me what I felt were some suspicious questions. I had strained to see the screen and prayed to see movement, but all I saw was the outline of the baby's head as she measured it.

When the second tech arrived, she sat down and pulled the machine closer towards her and turned the screen away. Bad feelings increased. Within a couple minutes, a doctor appeared at the curtain. Bad feelings turned into panic.

He looked with the tech at the screen and made some unintelligable comments. Then the tech asked me if I had come with anyone and that's when I started to cry. As I sat up, the doctor told me that there was no heartbeat.

We went up to the genetics appointment anyway, hoping that they could give us more information. They told us that although I was 19 weeks pregnant, the baby was only measuring 14 weeks gestation. I knew they had to be off somewhat, because I heard the heartbeat at 15 weeks, and I'm very confident in my dates.

An obstetrician was called and she came to meet with us and tell us what would happen next. We had a few options: surgery, taking a drug to induce labour, or waiting until I miscarried naturally. We chose the drug, which would involve me being admitted to hospital to have it administered. Unfortunately, there were no beds available to do this until the following Tuesday, a whole week later. We were horrified.

I felt that I would probably go into labour on my own, so we decided to go home and wait until that happened, or the week went by. I spent everyday at my moms in case it started, and mom and my sister even came home with us one night, when I was feeling awful and sure it was starting.

As the week went by, I became more tense and scared. They had warned me that being as far along as I was, I could bleed badly when it happened and have to rush to the hospital. My midwife, who supported us wonderfully during the whole thing, gave me instructions to call 911 if certain things happened. I didn't want my husband or mom have to deal with me miscarrying at home. I didn't want to see this baby. I was scared.

By the weekend, I couldn't take it anymore. I called the OB and told her I wanted surgery instead. I wanted this over with. To my dismay, she explained that I had misunderstood and surgery was not an option. She would do it if I insisted, but it would be risky and a horrible procedure. I decided to keep waiting.

I made it to Tuesday morning and got to the hospital earlier than the 7:30am they had told us. James and my mom came with me while my dad watched Jairus, Honour and Verity. They started the inducing drug around 9am. I didn't feel much until around noon, which surprised me: I was induced for Jairus and reacted strongly to the drugs then. But this was a different drug. And a different baby.

They gave me tylenol 3 at first, and then upped it to morphine to deal with the pain. It took 3 doses of the drug until finally our baby was born.

At 6:10pm, Hayden Jack Kent arrived easily and quietly. My midwife was there and took care of him just as she had my other children. She and the nurse actually couldn't tell for certain that he was a boy, but we all feel strongly that he is. He appeared to have a cleft lip and palate and from observation, a club foot and other issues with his legs. I chose not to look at him, but my mom and midwife did. My midwife has a tradition of making footprints of the babies she helps deliver, and I asked her if she could do the same for Hayden. She said she would try, but ended up doing handprints instead. They are so tiny...

Hayden was 14.5 cm long and weighed 45 grams. McMaster has worked out some admirable ways to help families deal with their grief. They assembled a memory box for us which had in it a blanket that they had laid Hayden on after he was born, the heart shaped card with his handprints, a measuring tape with his length marked on it, and a card that listed his time of birth, length, etc. I will put the tape with his heartbeat from my first midwife appointment in it too. I hope to still get one of the few ultrasound photos they took.

We got home around 11pm and the kids stayed at my parents. When I walked into mom and dad's house the next morning and saw them, it was with new eyes. Especially Jairus. Over the years, many people have called him a miracle and I would agree....but never the same way I do now. My mom remarked later that as tiny as he was, she could see that Hayden looked like his big brother.

There's a song I used to sing a number of years ago:

I will trust you Lord, when I don't know why

I will trust you Lord, 'til the day I die

I will trust you Lord, when I'm blind with pain

You were God before and you'll never change

I will trust you...

~Twila Paris

*

*

My little Hayden boy, I will see you again.