Thursday, January 8, 2015

The worst day. The best day.


The worst day.

 

I survived my worst day.  the heartache of that day is close to the surface.  Its been 2 years.  the numbing pain.  The confusion.  The sadness.  The anger.  The resentment.

 

The day we lost our baby.

 

The morning came with much hesitation.  My wife was going in for an ultrasound.  It was at her request.  She hadn’t felt our little 27 week old baby mover for a day or more.  She was up all night, but I wasn’t concerned.  It seemed as a mother of 2 already, she was overly concerned about all the worlds issues that threatened our little ones.

 

Today would be no different I thought.  she’ll see.  it’ll be fine.

 

It was not fine.

 

My wife came home from the hospital and delivered the most devastating news I’ve ever received.  No heartbeat.  No movement.  Nothing.  Our baby had died.

 

Now what?  what happens now?  I can’t fix this.  we held each other and cried.  The kids were in te house, 4 and 2 at the time.  Trying to hold it together we brought them to us and gave them the news.  trying to explain something we were still trying to understand ourselves.

 

I showered for work, not knowing what else to do.  I made it until about noon that day before losing it and coming home.

 

My wife needed me.  how could I have left her there, along?  She said she was fine, but I cannot, to this day, know the complete pain she felt as a mother who lost the baby she was carrying. 

 

We went to the hospital for the delivery.  I remember we both decided we would just deliver the baby and move on.  we didn’t want to see anything, just do it and be done.  Go home.  move on with life.

 

I think it was our selfishness, hurt and anger speaking.  How could we just leave and abandon our baby?  those thoughts didn’t enter my mind until quite a while later.

 

When my mom and dad made it to town, and as we were heading out the door to the hospital, she looked me in the eye and said “Jon.  You name that baby.” with a stern tone.  This was her grandbaby and more importantly this was a child of God.  at that point my concern was me and y wife.  I thought, please don’t tell me what to do.  I want this done.  I want this over.  I want to not feel like this.

 

We had a quiet room at the hospital with an adjacent room open up for us with refreshments and an area if we would like somewhere for family or friends to be during this difficult time.

 

The nurses were wonderful.  As nice as they could be.  comforting.  Informative.  Special to us, they will forever be.  I flipped through the pamphlets on grieving and loss.  I thought I wouldn’t need those, we were going to move on from this.

 

Our pastor came by and told us that whatever we felt to do was right.  So my wife and I were still both convinced we would just deliver the baby, and move on with life.

 

The doctor gave my wife some drugs to get the birth started.  She thought it would be a few hours until things fully kicked in.  Kristen did not respond well to the drugs and was up most of the night with vomiting, diarrhea, cramps and contractions.  Being dutiful, I stayed up with her until complete exhaustion set in.  that was until about 6am on the worst day.

 

The anesthesiologist came around 4am and had blocked my wifes nerves with an epidural.  She had been experiencing child-birth pains, since about midnight and was about at what felt like her pain threshold when the doctor arrived.  It was only after that she fell asleep, albeit for 2 hours. 

 

The doctor and nurses came in for the delivery.  The room was so heavy with sadness.  Everyone knowing that this delivery would not be like most.  There would be no cries from the baby.  there would be no joy.  there would only be sadness.

 

My wife delivered our baby and I tried not to listen.  I held my wifes hand and sobbed in her hair.  holding each other tight, going through a pain neither one of us had ever experienced before.

 

We listened to the noises, I didn’t want to know what was going on.  they took our baby out of the room and the clean-up began.  They had orders from us that we didn’t want anything to do with the baby.

 

We fell back asleep after the delivery for an hour or two.  the sun had come up.  It was a cold, January Minnesota morning.  My wife ordered something to eat and I went down to the cafeteria for my own.  I looked at people, eating, laughing, talking … and I thought “Don’t you know what I’m going through?”  they had no idea.  their world didn’t stop even though mine had.

 

After breakfast, the hurt and pain had not subsided.  Daybreak had helped.  I asked my wife if she would mind if I went to the nurses station as I was curious what we had.  She assured me she did not want to know, and I said I would keep it to myself but she could ask me sometime if she was curious.

 

I walked slowly to the nurses station.  They told me “You had a baby girl.”

 

I lost it.  I walked back to the room, passed the door and went into the adjoining room’s door so my wife wouldn’t see my hysteria.  How could God have let this happen.  I had a girl.  A baby girl and he let her die.  I was so hurt.  So angry.  So sad.  It was a heavy weight in the air.  Their was another dimension of gravity around me. 

 

I found my way to the room, and the look on kristens face, that she knew that I just found out.  her face was so sad.  So hurt.  The face of a mother, who has just lost a child.  words cannot express the look of sadness upon her face at that time.  and there was nothing I could do.

 

Finally the caring father in me came out and I told kristen I was going to have the nurses bring the baby down to the adjoining room so I could hold it.  she was ok with that.  she still didn’t want anything to do with it.

 

The nurse came into the room and told me that the baby was in the adjoining room and just let them know when we were done visiting.

 

She left.  kristen and I looked at each other.  held each other.  cried with each other.  I slowly made my way through the door.  closing it quietly behind me, I walked in and there, wrapped up in a blanket and wearing a crocheted hat was my baby girl.

 

I picked her up and it seemed as if I was only holding the weight of the blanket.  She was perfect.  her little nose, looked just like her moms.  Her little lips, so pretty and pink.  There had been an issue with the ultrasound tech who said her she probably had a cleft palate.  He was later given consequences from the clinic as he had not reason to give us his opinions at that time.  it was a moot point, but he was wrong.

 

I held our little girl and talked with her, cried over her, prayed over her and pretty soon that hatred and sadness lifted … even if it was just one pound of a thousand.  It lifted.

 

My mom came in and held her.  we cried.  I told her how angry I was.  She knew.  She was a mom.  She said it was ok to be mad at God.  he could take it.  (not her words)  she said it was ok to be mad.  She let me be whatever I wanted to be.

 

I named her Kate Kristen Crowe.

 

After her mom, of course.  And my 2 year old daughter said she wanted to name her “kitty” and we chuckled and in my mind I thought, kitty cat, Kat then ultimately Kate came to mind.

 

On a sidenote and completely RELATED … later on the name Kate we found out means: Pure.

 

How fitting.  Our perfectly pure little angel.

 

My mom said on the way to town, all the tree were frosted from the weather from the previous night.  but only the trees surrounding our home.  none on the streets adjacent or any on the way to the clinic.  She said it was just breathtaking to see the sunrise, through the trees and glistening in that frost.


 

 

After my mom left, I asked my wife if she would like to see our baby before they sent her off.  They were going to be cremating her and we would be able to keep the ashes if we wished.  A local funeral home has, for over a hundred years, offered this service for free.

 

After a bit of talking, praying and watching out the window in silence, watching the cars go by on the street below, she decided she did want to hold her.

 

And it was amazing.

 

She held her so tenderly.  Loved on her so graciously.  Held her fingers, touched her toes, kissed her lips and her nose.  she caressed her cheeks, the same ones we could see so clearly in the ultrasounds.  It was a beautiful moment and I was so thankful to have capture them in photos.

 

Those moments are so precious.

 

I found out later from kristen that the only reason she didn’t want to hold the baby, is that she didn’t know if she would be able to let it go.  she didn’t know how a mother is supposed to deliver a child and not take her home.  it wasn’t that she didn’t love her, or want to see her, but the pain of letting go.  the thought of it was simply too much to bear. 

 

We are so blessed to have those moments with our daughter and her ashes, pictures and knit cap adorn our mantle and bedroom wall.

 

We were pregnant again within just a few months, trying very hard to have another baby.  I can still remember kristen jumping on me early in the morning with the positive pregnancy test.

 

It was a very anxious time, trying to pull our strength together and going through the milestones, Kates expected birthday, the day we lost kate, the day we delivered kate, then just 8 days later we delivered a very healthy little boy.

 

What a joyous occasion.  It’s so amazing to hold that little guy, who will be 1 year old on the 12th, and think that without the loss of Kate we wouldn’t have him. 

 

My wife ended up being her very strong self, and used the loss, the grief, pain and ultimately the blessing that Kate is in our life to give as part of her testimony of her faith in Jesus.  I was so proud of her with the poise she had as she delivered her testimony to countless women at her womens group at church. 

 

We attended a Selah concert shortly afterward and they knew our story, I shared it with Todd as he had lost a baby as well.  They sang for us, they cried with us, the loved on us and we were front and center.  It was an amazing night truly made for us.  That God made for us.

 

The son we had a year later, his middle name is Isaiah.  We found comfort in Isaiah … beauty instead of ashes … oil of joy instead of mourning … the year of the Lords favor.

 

God’s favor is present in our lives, even when we are at the moments of deepest despair.  He knows what you are going through.  He knows your hurts and your pains.  We can’t always see past the lamp he’s given us for our feet, but we ultimately have to remember that his love for us is that of a parent.  He too, lost a son.  He knows that pain.  So I know the Lord not only hears my prayer, but has gone through the same thing. 

 

If you or a loved one is going through a similar process, don’t be afraid to leave a note.  I’d love to talk. 

 

I wrote today without looking back, it’s a rough draft and I’m going to leave it that way.  Its pure.  Just like Kate and on her birthday I need to remember that I am who God has made me and I don’t need to be anything else.

 

May God bless you if you have read this today.  The best day!  Because its TODAY!

 

Peace,

Jon

The Year of the Lord’s Favor


61 The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,[a]
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
    and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy

    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins
    and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
    that have been devastated for generations.
Strangers will shepherd your flocks;
    foreigners will work your fields and vineyards.
And you will be called priests of the Lord,
    you will be named ministers of our God.
You will feed on the wealth of nations,

    and in their riches you will boast.

Instead of your shame
    you will receive a double portion,
and instead of disgrace
    you will rejoice in your inheritance.
And so you will inherit a double portion in your land,

    and everlasting joy will be yours.

“For I, the Lord, love justice;
    I hate robbery and wrongdoing.
In my faithfulness I will reward my people
    and make an everlasting covenant with them.
Their descendants will be known among the nations
    and their offspring among the peoples.
All who see them will acknowledge
    that they are a people the Lord has blessed.”

10 I delight greatly in the Lord;
    my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
    and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,

    and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
11 For as the soil makes the sprout come up
    and a garden causes seeds to grow,
so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness
    and praise spring up before all nations.

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