Monday, March 29, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Our angel girls are born
A Labor and Delivery Journey...our story of birth, death and the emotions in between
February 16th dawned like most others in the hospital. It was exactly 7 weeks that I had been in the hospital and was feeling a little tired. I stayed in bed and took a nap that morning rather than go to pool therapy. Over the weekend I had had several pre-delivery signs: achy leg muscles, increased contractions (which I reported twice to my nurses and they treated with ibuprofen both times), etc. I will definitely be paying attention to those signs the next time around because, at the time, I didn't know my body was telling me it was time to have those babies. They willl be key in the future because once I was in labor, no one could even tell!
When I went for routine testing (NST- Non Stress Test and AFI- Amniotic Fluid Index) that afternoon, I started to feel the beginnings of those labor pains- but I didn't even realize I was in labor! It was around 1pm and I was laying on the bed for the NST. I remember just becoming more and more uncomfortable. I tried not to change positions too much at first because that would make the monitor move and prolong the test but at the end, I couldn't help it, I kept shifting around. What I really wanted to do was stand up. So when the nurse came in saying we were done testing, I couldn't wait. As she looked at the printout, she said it looked good. I looked too and saw that the last few contractions I had been having had not registered. I saw the hard one I was then having not even show up. I said to the nurse that my contraction wasn't showing up. She said "you really want credit for those, don't you?" I said that I wanted them to show up if I was having them. She commented that because Abigail had so much extra fluid, they probably weren't showing up. Just great! I had been prolonging draining her extra fluid to prevent pre-term labor and now, even when I was in heavy labor, it couldn't even be tracked! At the time, it didn't occur to me that I was in active labor, I just was feeling contractions- a fairly normal occurence for me.
Then it was time to change rooms for my AFI. Instead of sitting in my wheelchair to be wheeled down the hall, I said I wanted to walk (a distance of maybe 75 feet). Before I went in, I said I had to go to the bathroom. I really felt pressure to go but couldn't but I did continue to have the hard contractions. I went into the AFI room and the sonographer asked me to lie down. I tried but was so uncomfortable that I couldn't. I kept trying but stayed standing. I remember leaning on a counter and just crying from the pain. The sonographer said "I'm going to get a doctor." Dr. Schoenhage came in and said "this isn't (like) Melanie" and said "we need to get a room." She and another doctor, Dr. Stafford, quickly escorted me back down that same hall looking for an open L&D room but there were none. As they looked one doctor said for me to sit down and the other said that I didn't want to. I did stop walking to hold myself against a wall for another contraction. By this time, I realized "oh, these are contractions and they're like 2-3 minutes apart!" I was still so early, and I wasn't having terrible back labor like I did with Connor, I didn't even really realize it.
When the doctors couldn't find an open room, they had me go back to the same bed I had just been laying in for my NST. The doctor pulled the curtain and asked me to change into a hospital gown. I was so uncomfy I had a hard time doing so but finally managed. Then she said to lie on the bed again but I couldn't, it hurt so bad. She said I needed to so she could check me. I tried again but couldn't so she finally said to just do it quickly and put my legs up right away. That worked. She checked me and looked at the nurse who said "there's nothing there is there?" She said no and that I was at a 10! I started crying saying it was too early, couldn't we stop it? She said "there's nothing there honey, there's nothing we can do." I cried that they weren't ready and there would be problems. She said "she (meaning Amelia) will be fine. You had the steroid shots (given when I was admitted at 25 weeks) and any other problems, the NICU can take care of." She said I'd better call my husband so I dialed him on my cell phone but when he answered, I was in another contraction and couldn't speak so the doctor spoke to him and told him to hurry, that I was having this baby now and he'd better be quick or he'd miss it. Later he told me he could hear me crying and knew this was serious. Thankfully he was already on the road to work so that made it closer for him to get there (we live about 45 minutes away from the hospital).
They wheeled me on the bed down the hall into an available L&D room. The doctor said the babies could come out anytime but that she needed an IV in me. A nurse came over to put one in my left hand. I asked her if she was good at putting in IVs because the last time (the day I was admitted) it took the nurse 3 times to get it in. She said she could get an IV in someone that others couldn't so I assumed that would be true. No such luck. She tried 3 times on that arm. Someone else went in my vein on the other arm, at the elbow, to start antibiotics for strep B (I had to remind them that I was positive) and another started again in my left arm, at the elbow, to draw blood for the newborn possibilities (for saving the cord blood from Amelia). When a nurse tried another IV at my wrist, I screamed out in pain and said that it felt like she was driving the needle into my bone (she probably was seeing where the puncture mark was). I think she finally gave up (that was 4 tries in addition to each elbow).
The doctor had left during this time to go get her boots. She said "I'm going to need boots for this one" knowing that Abigail had 3 times the normal amount of amniotic fluid in addition to Amelia's fluid. When she heard me scream, she came running but was told it was just the IV. She said I must be feeling like a pincushion- yeah! Then I said for them to just put the IV in my elbow since they had no trouble getting blood out of it so that's what they did. I said I wanted pain killer but the doc told me it was too late. I whined a little that I didn't want to go through natural childbirth! [I really don't understand why they couldn't give me something because I was at a 9 when I came in with Connor and they were still able to give me a saddleblock. Maybe it was better though because this time I could actually feel where to push and the babies came out fast. With Connor, I pushed for 2 hours probably because I couldn't feel where to push. He was finally delivered with forceps.]
Then I said we needed to call Ammon to find out where he was. A nurse called and he was in the parking lot. I said for someone to go out and meet him so he wouldn't waste anytime trying to check in and find us so a nurse went out to meet him. He walked in the door, the doctor broke my water and said to push. Ammon literally walked in 1 minute before I pushed and and made it just 5 minutes before Amelia was born. In hindsight, I guess we were lucky they had a hard time with my IV because it bought Ammon some time to be at the birth. I pushed about 4 times and Amelia was out. It was PAINFUL and I screamed loud and long. Ammon recorded it on my cell phone. He took lots of pics and several videos of the births.
Ammon kissing our little princess, Amelia. She was born at 3:23pm and weighed 4 lbs 3.2 ozs and was 17.5 ins long. She cried heartily when she came out. I'm sure the shock of the cold air after the warmth of the womb on top of the birth made her wail. She stopped crying once the doctor wrapped her up and placed her on my chest. Amelia
February 16th dawned like most others in the hospital. It was exactly 7 weeks that I had been in the hospital and was feeling a little tired. I stayed in bed and took a nap that morning rather than go to pool therapy. Over the weekend I had had several pre-delivery signs: achy leg muscles, increased contractions (which I reported twice to my nurses and they treated with ibuprofen both times), etc. I will definitely be paying attention to those signs the next time around because, at the time, I didn't know my body was telling me it was time to have those babies. They willl be key in the future because once I was in labor, no one could even tell!
When I went for routine testing (NST- Non Stress Test and AFI- Amniotic Fluid Index) that afternoon, I started to feel the beginnings of those labor pains- but I didn't even realize I was in labor! It was around 1pm and I was laying on the bed for the NST. I remember just becoming more and more uncomfortable. I tried not to change positions too much at first because that would make the monitor move and prolong the test but at the end, I couldn't help it, I kept shifting around. What I really wanted to do was stand up. So when the nurse came in saying we were done testing, I couldn't wait. As she looked at the printout, she said it looked good. I looked too and saw that the last few contractions I had been having had not registered. I saw the hard one I was then having not even show up. I said to the nurse that my contraction wasn't showing up. She said "you really want credit for those, don't you?" I said that I wanted them to show up if I was having them. She commented that because Abigail had so much extra fluid, they probably weren't showing up. Just great! I had been prolonging draining her extra fluid to prevent pre-term labor and now, even when I was in heavy labor, it couldn't even be tracked! At the time, it didn't occur to me that I was in active labor, I just was feeling contractions- a fairly normal occurence for me.
Then it was time to change rooms for my AFI. Instead of sitting in my wheelchair to be wheeled down the hall, I said I wanted to walk (a distance of maybe 75 feet). Before I went in, I said I had to go to the bathroom. I really felt pressure to go but couldn't but I did continue to have the hard contractions. I went into the AFI room and the sonographer asked me to lie down. I tried but was so uncomfortable that I couldn't. I kept trying but stayed standing. I remember leaning on a counter and just crying from the pain. The sonographer said "I'm going to get a doctor." Dr. Schoenhage came in and said "this isn't (like) Melanie" and said "we need to get a room." She and another doctor, Dr. Stafford, quickly escorted me back down that same hall looking for an open L&D room but there were none. As they looked one doctor said for me to sit down and the other said that I didn't want to. I did stop walking to hold myself against a wall for another contraction. By this time, I realized "oh, these are contractions and they're like 2-3 minutes apart!" I was still so early, and I wasn't having terrible back labor like I did with Connor, I didn't even really realize it.
When the doctors couldn't find an open room, they had me go back to the same bed I had just been laying in for my NST. The doctor pulled the curtain and asked me to change into a hospital gown. I was so uncomfy I had a hard time doing so but finally managed. Then she said to lie on the bed again but I couldn't, it hurt so bad. She said I needed to so she could check me. I tried again but couldn't so she finally said to just do it quickly and put my legs up right away. That worked. She checked me and looked at the nurse who said "there's nothing there is there?" She said no and that I was at a 10! I started crying saying it was too early, couldn't we stop it? She said "there's nothing there honey, there's nothing we can do." I cried that they weren't ready and there would be problems. She said "she (meaning Amelia) will be fine. You had the steroid shots (given when I was admitted at 25 weeks) and any other problems, the NICU can take care of." She said I'd better call my husband so I dialed him on my cell phone but when he answered, I was in another contraction and couldn't speak so the doctor spoke to him and told him to hurry, that I was having this baby now and he'd better be quick or he'd miss it. Later he told me he could hear me crying and knew this was serious. Thankfully he was already on the road to work so that made it closer for him to get there (we live about 45 minutes away from the hospital).
They wheeled me on the bed down the hall into an available L&D room. The doctor said the babies could come out anytime but that she needed an IV in me. A nurse came over to put one in my left hand. I asked her if she was good at putting in IVs because the last time (the day I was admitted) it took the nurse 3 times to get it in. She said she could get an IV in someone that others couldn't so I assumed that would be true. No such luck. She tried 3 times on that arm. Someone else went in my vein on the other arm, at the elbow, to start antibiotics for strep B (I had to remind them that I was positive) and another started again in my left arm, at the elbow, to draw blood for the newborn possibilities (for saving the cord blood from Amelia). When a nurse tried another IV at my wrist, I screamed out in pain and said that it felt like she was driving the needle into my bone (she probably was seeing where the puncture mark was). I think she finally gave up (that was 4 tries in addition to each elbow).
The doctor had left during this time to go get her boots. She said "I'm going to need boots for this one" knowing that Abigail had 3 times the normal amount of amniotic fluid in addition to Amelia's fluid. When she heard me scream, she came running but was told it was just the IV. She said I must be feeling like a pincushion- yeah! Then I said for them to just put the IV in my elbow since they had no trouble getting blood out of it so that's what they did. I said I wanted pain killer but the doc told me it was too late. I whined a little that I didn't want to go through natural childbirth! [I really don't understand why they couldn't give me something because I was at a 9 when I came in with Connor and they were still able to give me a saddleblock. Maybe it was better though because this time I could actually feel where to push and the babies came out fast. With Connor, I pushed for 2 hours probably because I couldn't feel where to push. He was finally delivered with forceps.]
Then I said we needed to call Ammon to find out where he was. A nurse called and he was in the parking lot. I said for someone to go out and meet him so he wouldn't waste anytime trying to check in and find us so a nurse went out to meet him. He walked in the door, the doctor broke my water and said to push. Ammon literally walked in 1 minute before I pushed and and made it just 5 minutes before Amelia was born. In hindsight, I guess we were lucky they had a hard time with my IV because it bought Ammon some time to be at the birth. I pushed about 4 times and Amelia was out. It was PAINFUL and I screamed loud and long. Ammon recorded it on my cell phone. He took lots of pics and several videos of the births.
Ammon kissing our little princess, Amelia. She was born at 3:23pm and weighed 4 lbs 3.2 ozs and was 17.5 ins long. She cried heartily when she came out. I'm sure the shock of the cold air after the warmth of the womb on top of the birth made her wail. She stopped crying once the doctor wrapped her up and placed her on my chest. AmeliaAbigail Then the docs prepared for Abigail's birth. I remember looking around the room and seeing so many doctors and nurses. I asked someone to count how many were there. A nurse counted 12- wow! In addition to my doctor and nurses, there was a whole team of NICU docs and nurses ready for this high-risk multiple birth.
Twenty minutes after Amelia was born, Abigail was born at 3:37pm weighing 2 lbs 14 ozs and measuring 12.5 ins long. The doctor broke my water and literally a gallon of water came gushing out. Everyone was like 'whoa!' I thought "good thing that doctor had her boots!" Because I was already dialated from having Amelia, Abigail came out easily.
Ammon saw Abigail's face immediately after the doctor cut the cord. She seemed to blink her eyes in amazement and a sudden shock came across her face as she came to experience that life outside of mommy was very different and obviously did not feel good.
The doctors wrapped her in a blanket and laid her on my chest. The NICU doctor, Dr Lichauco, put a hat on her head as she was lying in my arms. Ammon filmed her brief first moments of life. Abigail's eyes opened, her arms moved, she grasped my finger, she breathed some and then a sudden awareness came across her face that it was difficult to do so. I suppose it was a brief struggle but then a realization that this situation was different than inside the womb and she seemed to just accept it. After a few moments, I remember asking her doctor if she was still breathing and he checked her heartbeat with a stethiscope. He said she was still alive. [I was later told by Dr Connely (ironically the same doctor that first told us Abigail had anencephaly) that newborns hearts keep breathing for a long time after they take their last breath. They have a much better oxygen efficiency than adults do. She said that very early newborns can breathe through their skin keeping their hearts beating for hours.]
I was able to hold Abigail almost the whole time she was alive. When it was time to try and deliver the placentas, I handed her to Ammon, since it was painful and I had to concentrate. She grasped his finger and he held her tenderly and tearfully. During this painful time (emotionally) I was trying hard to pass the placentas (which was painful physically) interrupted occassionally by her doctor coming in to check on her a couple more times to see if her heart was still beating. Ammon and I passed Abigail back and forth a few times so that we would be able to spend some time together, and whisper words of love to her during the brief time that we held her alive. As I held her Ammon asked any non-essential staff to please leave so that he could bless her in some privacy, which he tearfully did. A few minutes later while holding Ammon's finger, Abigail quietly passed away at 4:20pm (about 40 minutes after birth).
As Ammon softly informed me that she was gone I then faced the unexpected struggle of trying unsuccessfully to deliver the placentas but they weren't detaching. The doctor said we needed to get them out soon or I would need to have an epidural so she could scrape them out. If that didn't work, worst case scenario would be a hysterectomy!! I was shocked that could be a possibility. I prayed to God that after this difficult pregnancy and knowing Abigail would die to please not let that happen and that my body would release the placentas. The doctor tried again but nothing. She had the anesthesiologist come in and talk to me about pain relief for the procedure. I was offered demerol or an epidural. Because I had had demerol when I was first admitted at 25 weeks and it knocked me out, I opted for the epidural. Then the docs left the room to prep for the procedure. After they were gone a few minutes and while I was holding Abigail again for the last time before she passed, I felt the need to push. I told the nurse that I needed to push and she said to do so. She called for the doctor to come back in who arrived in time to deliver my placentas. What an immediate answer to prayer that I didn't need to have the epidural and procedure or the hysterectomy!! I have to say that this whole pregnancy through birth and death of Abigail experience has been an answer to prayer. Definitely not in the way we would have asked or hoped but in the way God knew He could teach us best. Despite our difficulties I feel He has supported us and turned our pain into joy.
During the times I had held Abigail, I tried to focus on her as much as possible knowing our time together was coming to an end. I held my baby and tried to memorize everything about her. Her little body was absolutely perfect from her nose down. She had very long arms and legs and long fingers and feet just like Amelia. I just feel so privileged to have that little girl as my own. As I said at her funeral, she was very much alive and lived inside me. She was the more active twin always moving around. On the ultrasounds, she was almost always head to head with Amelia and would often reach out to give her sister love taps. Losing a child as we did is nothing I would wish on anyone but the experiences I gained and the closeness to God that I have felt, including His comforting Spirit, are precious gifts that I would not trade. I have been taught so much because of having that little girl. Because of her, I have been humble in accepting God's will for us. She has helped me to appreciate and cherish every day.
As difficult as the pregnancy was and as much as I wished it over, I still wanted it to last forever because that's when I could feel my Abigail within me. That's when she was here with me. I will love that little girl forever and look forward to the day when I get to see her again, with a perfect body through the gift of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and have the chance to hold her and raise her. That gives me so much hope and incentive to do my best each day to be able to be a family together forever someday. As much as I grieve and miss her and cry over the growing up experiences I won't be able to have with her here and now, I know and feel comforted in that all my tears will be made up by a loving Father in Heaven. I feel He has been grieving along with me for the pain of my loss.
On the day of Abigail's funeral, 2/20/10, it poured all morning. I felt like that was God crying along with me. Following the service and luncheon, we went to take Ammon's grandmother back to Mesa and go to the temple. As we were dropping her off, the most majestic double rainbow showed up in the sky. I felt like it was God showing us that there is life and happiness and joy after this painful time. We took lots of pictures of the rainbows over the temple- the symbol and source of the promise that our family can and will be together forever. I know God's promises are sure for I have felt the sweet, peaceful feeling of His Spirit confirming that truth. My time with Abigail was so sacred. I will cherish it always.
Within an hour of her passing, Connor arrived at the hospital as well as our bereavement photographer. Amelia was allowed out of the NICU for family pictures. (Sadly that is still the only time Connor has held her so far since she's still in the NICU). Our photographer was wonderful and spent about an hour with us snapping shots to capture the feelings of the moment. I now have cherished photos capturing everything from my crying face to smiles of all of us being together and of Connor holding each of his precious sisters. Most of these pictures are too private to share on my blog, especially those of Abigail which I have chosen not to post any pictures of her but I would be willing to show them to those who would like to see them. She and Amelia are my angels and I feel so privileged to be their mother.
Here is one picture of Connor where he is kissing Abigail's foot.
Connor so excited to see his baby sister Amelia.
I love these three pictures of Connor looking at Amelia.
This first shows him not quite sure what to do with such a little baby...
Here he seems to be taking it all in...
and at last Amelia is looking right at his overjoyed face - love it!
I absolutely love these too with Amelia's little hand up by her face.
It's as if she's saying "oh, what am I getting myself into?"
(Ammon thinks it looks like her saluting "hello.")
Since the births, death and funeral
It's been 3 weeks now that Amelia has been in the NICU. I have visited her everyday, except for the day we buried Abigail on 2/23/10. It was Abigail's day and our last with her. How precious the funeral and graveside were. The Spirit was so strong and I felt very comforted by God, despite my ever-present tears and obvious sadness. Several people that are not of our faith (including doctors present at the blessing, and mourners at the funeral and grave-side service) commented on just how spiritually deep and strangely strengthening it has been to hear Ammon and my testimonies throughout this experience.
Amelia has been growing steadily stronger and has gained a pound in the time she's been hospitalized. I noticed in her growth record that she lost weight everyday until Abigail's funeral and then started to gain. I don't know what that means but perhaps there was a connection between the girls. There definitely was one in utero and one I know will last for always.
Me looking so ridiculously happy to see Amelia after giving birth.
This all truly has been full of moments that took our breath away... then moments that brought it back...
Melanie's talk at Abigail's funeral
First I wish to thank all of you for your amazing support to our family during this most trying time in our lives. We feel so blessed to know all of you and to have felt the love of your association. You don’t know how much it has meant to have our needs met so adequately by our dear ward, friends and family. Your help has been true Christian service in action.
It began when I was on home bedrest then hospital bedrest. I felt so inadequate and unable to fulfill the needs of my family and was gratefully able to depend so capably on so many of you. Thank you. Words cannot express how much comfort it gave to me as a wife and mother to have my boys taken care of while I was taking care of my girls.
Now I wish to express how we feel how we were carefully prepared for this experience, and how our girls are answers to years of prayers and fasting and how both of our babies are miracles.
Preparation-
When Ammon and I heard the news of Abigail’s fatal birth defect, our first reaction was naturally one of shock and sadness. But, as we prayed, attended the temple, discussed and worked through this together, we came to a place of great calm, peace and acceptance of God’s plan. I I know that we don’t choose such paths in our lives but God knows what we can handle and what situations and experiences to give us to make us into the people He knows we can be and needs us to be.
I wholeheartedly feel that we were prepared for such an experience as this. I often think that we needed the 5 years between Connor’s birth and the birth of our girls to have a chance to prepare. God’s timing is perfect in our lives. Now I know no one should have to bury a child but, I wouldn’t change what I’ve experienced through it all. I have most assuredly never felt more supported and cared for by an all-loving, kind Heavenly Father than now in my life. He knows my weaknesses and what trials to give me personally to strengthen me and I feel that is exactly what has happened.
Answers to prayer-
For years Ammon and I ached and prayed to have more children. We would try not to focus on it and told ourselves we would just let it happen but it seemed to be taking forever. Finally, when we became pregnant, I felt to rejoice with barren Hannah from the Bible who said
“For this child I prayed and the Lord hast heard my prayer.”
We absolutely feel that our prayers have been answered in blessing us with our wonderful girls. Even though Abigail won’t be staying with us, we know God has a plan for her and for us.
Accordingly, we tried to give the girls middle names of significance to reflect their special place in our family. Amelia’s middle name is Arabella meaning “answered prayer” and Abigail’s is Grace for we know that it is by the grace of God that our family will be eternally together after doing all we can to be the best we can be.
Miracles-
Our babies are miracles in that they both were conceived by the miracle of modern medicine. AND also, that I had many complications throughout my pregnancy, any one of which could and should have taken our babies. The scare that landed me in the hospital 7 weeks ago was much more serious than I first thought. When we came into the hospital at 25 weeks gestation, the doctors really thought I would deliver the girls that day. The chance of even our healthy daughter, Amelia, making it was less than 50% and if she did, she would likely have been left with severe disabilities.
Ammon and I knew of Abigail’s birth defect and eventual outcome early on and felt she was placed in the womb with Amelia for a special reason. We constantly prayed that I would be able to remain pregnant until Amelia was more viable. I really feel Abigail was there to help Amelia to thrive. Our Abigail was a blessing from the start. She was often the more active twin and I could tell that her little spirit delighted at having a little body. She would kick and move all the time letting me know “mom, I’m here!” Often on the ultrasounds she would give her sister little love pats and was almost always head to head with her. I know the girls have developed a special bond that death cannot break.
As my girls continued to grow during those extra weeks, my faith in God also grew. It is always faith that precedes the miracle. Our miracle was that, despite being born early and now in the NICU, Amelia is strong and doing wonderfully. I want to thank Abigail for sticking through this difficult pregnancy and being there for her sister. I’ve grown to love that little girl so much and will always have the most special place in my heart for her. I am so honored to be her mother. I love her more than words can express.
In Conclusion-
I know God loves and cares for us and lets us experience hard times precisely because of His love. He knows we won’t grow and stretch if we don’t have some hard times to work through. I have just been on bedrest for most of my pregnancy and have had two babies but I hope to soon get back to physical activity. I know I can’t expect to get back a fit physical body without resistance just as I can’t expect some bumps along my life’s path. Both are necessary for the desired benefit.
I want with all my heart to love God and be better all the time. His plan is one of progression and I feel expanded and even blessed through these series of trials, including that of losing my beloved daughter. Losing a child- no one should have to bury a child but I feel comforted and strengthened by this experience and have felt peaceful support from the Holy Spirit even in the midst of the trial.
I take comfort in the words of modern day prophets including a quote from President Dieter Uchtdorf:
“No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations.”
I know that death is not the end. Families can be together forever. Jesus Christ’s sacrifice has made it possible to turn our tragedies into triumphs. I love him for his offering.
I hope all of you can feel the power of God’s love, Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and the comfort of the Holy Spirit in your lives as well.
Now in closing I want to share a song that appears in the French hymnal I've sung to Connor and I sang to Abigail before we said goodbye that night we let her go...
Souviens toi…
Remember when my child each day here
We were friends, playing in the wind
Then one day in the joy we chose
To accept of the Lord the Great Plan of Life
That evening, my child, we chose to accept
By love, by faith, to be reunited.
Remember when my child
The tress and the cities
Each day here we have chosen
To accept!
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
First I wish to thank all of you for your amazing support to our family during this most trying time in our lives. We feel so blessed to know all of you and to have felt the love of your association. You don’t know how much it has meant to have our needs met so adequately by our dear ward, friends and family. Your help has been true Christian service in action.
It began when I was on home bedrest then hospital bedrest. I felt so inadequate and unable to fulfill the needs of my family and was gratefully able to depend so capably on so many of you. Thank you. Words cannot express how much comfort it gave to me as a wife and mother to have my boys taken care of while I was taking care of my girls.
Now I wish to express how we feel how we were carefully prepared for this experience, and how our girls are answers to years of prayers and fasting and how both of our babies are miracles.
Preparation-
When Ammon and I heard the news of Abigail’s fatal birth defect, our first reaction was naturally one of shock and sadness. But, as we prayed, attended the temple, discussed and worked through this together, we came to a place of great calm, peace and acceptance of God’s plan. I I know that we don’t choose such paths in our lives but God knows what we can handle and what situations and experiences to give us to make us into the people He knows we can be and needs us to be.
I wholeheartedly feel that we were prepared for such an experience as this. I often think that we needed the 5 years between Connor’s birth and the birth of our girls to have a chance to prepare. God’s timing is perfect in our lives. Now I know no one should have to bury a child but, I wouldn’t change what I’ve experienced through it all. I have most assuredly never felt more supported and cared for by an all-loving, kind Heavenly Father than now in my life. He knows my weaknesses and what trials to give me personally to strengthen me and I feel that is exactly what has happened.
Answers to prayer-
For years Ammon and I ached and prayed to have more children. We would try not to focus on it and told ourselves we would just let it happen but it seemed to be taking forever. Finally, when we became pregnant, I felt to rejoice with barren Hannah from the Bible who said
“For this child I prayed and the Lord hast heard my prayer.”
We absolutely feel that our prayers have been answered in blessing us with our wonderful girls. Even though Abigail won’t be staying with us, we know God has a plan for her and for us.
Accordingly, we tried to give the girls middle names of significance to reflect their special place in our family. Amelia’s middle name is Arabella meaning “answered prayer” and Abigail’s is Grace for we know that it is by the grace of God that our family will be eternally together after doing all we can to be the best we can be.
Miracles-
Our babies are miracles in that they both were conceived by the miracle of modern medicine. AND also, that I had many complications throughout my pregnancy, any one of which could and should have taken our babies. The scare that landed me in the hospital 7 weeks ago was much more serious than I first thought. When we came into the hospital at 25 weeks gestation, the doctors really thought I would deliver the girls that day. The chance of even our healthy daughter, Amelia, making it was less than 50% and if she did, she would likely have been left with severe disabilities.
Ammon and I knew of Abigail’s birth defect and eventual outcome early on and felt she was placed in the womb with Amelia for a special reason. We constantly prayed that I would be able to remain pregnant until Amelia was more viable. I really feel Abigail was there to help Amelia to thrive. Our Abigail was a blessing from the start. She was often the more active twin and I could tell that her little spirit delighted at having a little body. She would kick and move all the time letting me know “mom, I’m here!” Often on the ultrasounds she would give her sister little love pats and was almost always head to head with her. I know the girls have developed a special bond that death cannot break.
As my girls continued to grow during those extra weeks, my faith in God also grew. It is always faith that precedes the miracle. Our miracle was that, despite being born early and now in the NICU, Amelia is strong and doing wonderfully. I want to thank Abigail for sticking through this difficult pregnancy and being there for her sister. I’ve grown to love that little girl so much and will always have the most special place in my heart for her. I am so honored to be her mother. I love her more than words can express.
In Conclusion-
I know God loves and cares for us and lets us experience hard times precisely because of His love. He knows we won’t grow and stretch if we don’t have some hard times to work through. I have just been on bedrest for most of my pregnancy and have had two babies but I hope to soon get back to physical activity. I know I can’t expect to get back a fit physical body without resistance just as I can’t expect some bumps along my life’s path. Both are necessary for the desired benefit.
I want with all my heart to love God and be better all the time. His plan is one of progression and I feel expanded and even blessed through these series of trials, including that of losing my beloved daughter. Losing a child- no one should have to bury a child but I feel comforted and strengthened by this experience and have felt peaceful support from the Holy Spirit even in the midst of the trial.
I take comfort in the words of modern day prophets including a quote from President Dieter Uchtdorf:
“No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations.”
I know that death is not the end. Families can be together forever. Jesus Christ’s sacrifice has made it possible to turn our tragedies into triumphs. I love him for his offering.
I hope all of you can feel the power of God’s love, Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and the comfort of the Holy Spirit in your lives as well.
Now in closing I want to share a song that appears in the French hymnal I've sung to Connor and I sang to Abigail before we said goodbye that night we let her go...
Souviens toi…
Remember when my child each day here
We were friends, playing in the wind
Then one day in the joy we chose
To accept of the Lord the Great Plan of Life
That evening, my child, we chose to accept
By love, by faith, to be reunited.
Remember when my child
The tress and the cities
Each day here we have chosen
To accept!
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
Ammon's talk at Abigail's Funeral
Thank you all for being here. Thank you for your presence and your prayers. Your efforts to be present and to be available has been the outpouring of love that all need through these challenging times. I know it’s tricky to know how to approach us but just remember we’re not broken and needing fixing. Your presence, your prayers and your availability have done so much.
Now,
What does a person say in times like this when expectations, hopes, dreams are met in disappointment?
I’ve decided to focus on other what I’ve experienced behind the scenes.
I can look back and recall several potent faith-building experiences across my life-span. These are sacred and not shared lightly. I pray I don’t stumble over my words too badly.
I’d like to do my best to share my heart with you all about some of the things that I’ve experienced as we learned that we were dealing with not only a very high-risk pregnancy but one that would inevitably claim the life of at least one of our baby girls.
Reflecting on this brings me back to a rather powerful experience13 years ago. My mother gave birth to my youngest sister under crisis conditions that threatened both of their lives. Like Amelia and Abigail my sister Sarah was born prematurely (incidentally Sarah is the only of my 8 siblings here with us today).
So, since you know full-well the end of this story (since both of them obviously survived the experience), it takes a bit out of the punch line. However, having been rushed to the hospital and given birth via emergency C-section my mother slipped in and out of death’s grasp for weeks. During those very stressful conditions my father understandably didn’t get much rest. On one particularly difficult night when it wasn’t clear what my mother’s status was, I remember the phone awakening me at about 4 am. It was obviously the hospital; as my father answered the phone I remember a powerful and unexpected spiritual impression asking me, “if that is the hospital informing you that you’re mother has passed away will you be okay?” I was almost surprised by the answer.
I knew in a way that defied logic and reason that yes I would be fine and my family would be also. It would demand much of me but we would be fine.
I’ve always remembered that experience as being one where God spoke peace to my heart and taught me something about Him, about me, and most importantly about my relationship with Him.
Similarly when Melanie and I learned that Abigail was not progressing normally we faced a few minutes of ambiguity where we weren’t certain what the outcome would be “What could it be?” “Would we have a child with disabilities?” “Would we care for a terminally ill child over the span of years?” At that time I was faced with these questions that I’ve been frightened of throughout my life. Almost unnervingly and just as surprisingly this same divine peace returned to whisper to my soul that everything would be fine IF I continued to trust in and follow my Savior.
Within minutes we learned that one of our girls had a fatal condition that would take her life shortly after birth. To call this news “difficult” is putting it mildly; after the doctor left the room Melanie and I held each other and cried for several minutes. The news was hard to bear AND yet in the midst of the pain of the hours that followed the Holy Spirit said again like it has in dozens of key points in my life, “YOU CAN HANDLE THIS and you’ll be just fine.”
As I headed in to work that afternoon a Christian song on the radio spoke the words that my soul related to: “At Your feet I cry, in Your arms I rest” (Fernando Ortega, "No One Else").
Melanie and I prayed for strength at the moment of the news and throughout the time that followed. Every single time I found myself drawn back to the scriptures in both the Holy Bible and in the Book of Mormon as well as to words of the living prophets. Even when logic and reason defied the simplicity of this act, my loving Heavenly Father has blessed me with an amazing outpouring of his Love by meeting me with comfort and understanding even through these difficult spirit stretching experiences. Repeatedly throughout the ordeal I’ve described it as an ache in the gut and a peace in the heart. “At Your feet I cry, in Your arms I rest.”
As you all know, Melanie was admitted to the hospital and we faced one week after another separated from one another. Then the stress of other family and personal issues mounted and we faced sudden labor and the death of our little one. Yet there were quiet assurances throughout these events from my loving Heavenly Father that ALL OF THIS was according to his divine plan. AND as this is part of his plan I could choose to go with it in faithful obedience and soul searching, or to break myself against his will for me thus losing the blessings of strength and growth that he held in store.
Therefore, although the recent events have been difficult and at times so very overwhelming: it is the witness from the depths of my soul that not one of these events has been a tragedy; each of them has opened a divine door of strength and has been an answer to prayer in a way I’m only beginning to understand.
For example,
I pray for an increase of love - he gives me a fertile emotional garden in which to grow it.
I pray for emotional and spiritual strength - he gives me emotional weight to lift.
I pray for determination and self-control - he gives me opportunities to test my resolve.
I pray and work with Melanie to build our family for over 5 long years with no success and he gave us the means and the ability through the miracle of modern medicine to test our willingness to pursue this goal by making it abundantly difficult but possible.
I pray for the opportunity to teach my son lessons of eternal significance and he blesses us with a special daughter to teach us the fragility of life and to point our minds towards the very things we are to learn.
I pray for the ability to know my Lord and Savior better, and he gives me opportunities to be “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).
Abigail is an answer to prayer. By the authority that He has given me, while she was alive I blessed Abigail that she would hold a special place in our family; now I see that she already has. I have quiet assurances from those earliest moments until now that my holy and loving Father in Heaven has a larger plan for us in these events. (We weren’t certain what these purposes were at first, we wanted to stay open to all options, we offered Abigail for tissue or organ donation before learning that she’d be an unsuitable donor.)
Life and death touches all of us sooner or later. In the immortal words of one of my favorite composers:
Thomas Monson, the man I sustain as a living prophet of God, recently said, “Through tears and trials, through fears and sorrows, through the heartache and loneliness of losing loved ones, there is assurance that life is everlasting. Our Lord and Savior is the living witness that such is so” (Thomas S. Monson, “I know that My Redeemer Lives!” Ensign, May 2007, 25 emphasis added).
Through recent events I’ve been reminded that nothing mortal is ever certain. Physical or tangible influences are not more powerful than the immortal or the spiritual. Thus, it is HOW one lives and not how long a person lives, that truly matters. It is not the check marks on the days of the calendar that carries lasting value but the checks of conscience on how one lives today. Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. Abigail reminds us of this. So as I watch her come startled into this world, struggle briefly, and then pass peacefully I’m reminded of the truth of the words of modern prophets that “there is no tragedy in death, but only in sin” (Spencer W Kimball Brigham Young University Devotional, Provo, Utah, December 6,1955).
Therefore, if I move in line with my Father’s plan, the only thing that I make certain in my life is that while I live TODAY I can and will strive to live a life that blesses others in righteousness. That is power! That is peace! That is within my hands! That is something that my sweet girl has taught me in a few minutes and without words: imparting more wisdom than those who believe themselves to be wise try to spend hours in lengthy debate or instruction. As death approached and as my precious daughter passed from her tiny mortal body while holding my finger something amazing happened. As I saw her little almost-three-pound frame accept and welcome the inevitable, I saw peace in her face and she looked quite tranquil. This is the same peace I experience in my life as I accept God’s will for me throughout this ordeal and in other areas in my life.
The passing of my daughter was a sublimely powerful spiritual experience where I came to better know my Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ. Through the emotional roller coaster I’ve experienced the still deep waters of his grace. Some might be tempted to ask “why would a loving God allow this to happen?” I believe that part of the answer is that he simply wants me to be more like Him.
My recent life has stretched me and pulled at my soul in a way that has not been so since my mission. A line from the Talmud says, “the deeper the sorrow the less tongue it hath.” I experienced a mixture of sadness, joy, deep gratitude, disappointment, and even emptiness in prayer where it’s hard to find the words. Even my blessing of Abigail felt a bit mechanical but then the peace returns, at times so powerfully and intensely that I can almost touch it tangibly. So amidst the flurry of emotions and uncertainties remains this one certainty born of the Holy Ghost for me and my family: God lives, he loves my family, he wants me to coincide with his will so that I can be forever with my daughter, Abigail, and the rest of my family for all of eternity. As I’m reminded of this certainty the turmoil ceases and in its place is only a quiet stillness and reassurance reminding me that this (though difficult) is far from a tragedy. It is an answer to prayer, an evidence of His keen interest in my life and his stalwart presence in my emotional tempests.
Indeed,
Therefore, as I personally experience his almighty sovereignty over all things whether they be unpleasant or evil, I press forward with a renewed sense of purpose to strive daily to live a life worthy of His grace. In the hard times of this experience he whispers “carry on,” “move forward,” “live a strong and faithful life.” This funeral for me is about celebrating the Plan of our Heavenly Father as I understand it. Amidst these challenges I find the greatest and most practical blessing of all: the encouragement, strength, power, and drive to be a better person. I want to live a life that would make my little girl proud. I want to live a life where she will joyfully point to me and say, “that’s my dad and I can’t wait to be raised by him.”
I’ve decided to close with both my witness of the truth of the atonement of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and the hope that this brings. Both to me are encapsulated in the following song that has always been powerful to me, but now has become sacred. I thank God for His plan, and I share this with all of you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Song
Where's the navigator of your destiny
Where is the dealer of this hand
Who can explain
Life and its brevity
'Cause there is nothing here
That I can understand
You and I
Have barely met
And I just don't want to let go of you yet
(Incidentally, I would mess up the divine plan if it were left up to me and my desires. I want her here, but then I’d miss out on all the growth and blessings that the Lord has already graced me with and has in store for me…)
[Abigail], hello, good-bye
I'll see you on the other side
[Abigail], sweet child of mine
I'll see you on the other side
And so I hold your tiny hand in mine
For the hardest thing I've ever had to face
Heaven calls for you
Before it calls for me
When you get there save me a place
A place where I can share your smile
And I can hold you for more than just awhile
(MWS, “Hello, Goodbye”)
Talk given by Jeffery Ammon Larsen on 2/20/10, at the funeral of his second daughter Abigail Grace Larsen (who died about 40 minutes after birth on 2/16/10).
Thank you all for being here. Thank you for your presence and your prayers. Your efforts to be present and to be available has been the outpouring of love that all need through these challenging times. I know it’s tricky to know how to approach us but just remember we’re not broken and needing fixing. Your presence, your prayers and your availability have done so much.
Now,
What does a person say in times like this when expectations, hopes, dreams are met in disappointment?
I’ve decided to focus on other what I’ve experienced behind the scenes.
I can look back and recall several potent faith-building experiences across my life-span. These are sacred and not shared lightly. I pray I don’t stumble over my words too badly.
I’d like to do my best to share my heart with you all about some of the things that I’ve experienced as we learned that we were dealing with not only a very high-risk pregnancy but one that would inevitably claim the life of at least one of our baby girls.
Reflecting on this brings me back to a rather powerful experience13 years ago. My mother gave birth to my youngest sister under crisis conditions that threatened both of their lives. Like Amelia and Abigail my sister Sarah was born prematurely (incidentally Sarah is the only of my 8 siblings here with us today).
So, since you know full-well the end of this story (since both of them obviously survived the experience), it takes a bit out of the punch line. However, having been rushed to the hospital and given birth via emergency C-section my mother slipped in and out of death’s grasp for weeks. During those very stressful conditions my father understandably didn’t get much rest. On one particularly difficult night when it wasn’t clear what my mother’s status was, I remember the phone awakening me at about 4 am. It was obviously the hospital; as my father answered the phone I remember a powerful and unexpected spiritual impression asking me, “if that is the hospital informing you that you’re mother has passed away will you be okay?” I was almost surprised by the answer.
I knew in a way that defied logic and reason that yes I would be fine and my family would be also. It would demand much of me but we would be fine.
I’ve always remembered that experience as being one where God spoke peace to my heart and taught me something about Him, about me, and most importantly about my relationship with Him.
Similarly when Melanie and I learned that Abigail was not progressing normally we faced a few minutes of ambiguity where we weren’t certain what the outcome would be “What could it be?” “Would we have a child with disabilities?” “Would we care for a terminally ill child over the span of years?” At that time I was faced with these questions that I’ve been frightened of throughout my life. Almost unnervingly and just as surprisingly this same divine peace returned to whisper to my soul that everything would be fine IF I continued to trust in and follow my Savior.
Within minutes we learned that one of our girls had a fatal condition that would take her life shortly after birth. To call this news “difficult” is putting it mildly; after the doctor left the room Melanie and I held each other and cried for several minutes. The news was hard to bear AND yet in the midst of the pain of the hours that followed the Holy Spirit said again like it has in dozens of key points in my life, “YOU CAN HANDLE THIS and you’ll be just fine.”
As I headed in to work that afternoon a Christian song on the radio spoke the words that my soul related to: “At Your feet I cry, in Your arms I rest” (Fernando Ortega, "No One Else").
Melanie and I prayed for strength at the moment of the news and throughout the time that followed. Every single time I found myself drawn back to the scriptures in both the Holy Bible and in the Book of Mormon as well as to words of the living prophets. Even when logic and reason defied the simplicity of this act, my loving Heavenly Father has blessed me with an amazing outpouring of his Love by meeting me with comfort and understanding even through these difficult spirit stretching experiences. Repeatedly throughout the ordeal I’ve described it as an ache in the gut and a peace in the heart. “At Your feet I cry, in Your arms I rest.”
As you all know, Melanie was admitted to the hospital and we faced one week after another separated from one another. Then the stress of other family and personal issues mounted and we faced sudden labor and the death of our little one. Yet there were quiet assurances throughout these events from my loving Heavenly Father that ALL OF THIS was according to his divine plan. AND as this is part of his plan I could choose to go with it in faithful obedience and soul searching, or to break myself against his will for me thus losing the blessings of strength and growth that he held in store.
Therefore, although the recent events have been difficult and at times so very overwhelming: it is the witness from the depths of my soul that not one of these events has been a tragedy; each of them has opened a divine door of strength and has been an answer to prayer in a way I’m only beginning to understand.
For example,
I pray for an increase of love - he gives me a fertile emotional garden in which to grow it.
I pray for emotional and spiritual strength - he gives me emotional weight to lift.
I pray for determination and self-control - he gives me opportunities to test my resolve.
I pray and work with Melanie to build our family for over 5 long years with no success and he gave us the means and the ability through the miracle of modern medicine to test our willingness to pursue this goal by making it abundantly difficult but possible.
I pray for the opportunity to teach my son lessons of eternal significance and he blesses us with a special daughter to teach us the fragility of life and to point our minds towards the very things we are to learn.
I pray for the ability to know my Lord and Savior better, and he gives me opportunities to be “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).
Abigail is an answer to prayer. By the authority that He has given me, while she was alive I blessed Abigail that she would hold a special place in our family; now I see that she already has. I have quiet assurances from those earliest moments until now that my holy and loving Father in Heaven has a larger plan for us in these events. (We weren’t certain what these purposes were at first, we wanted to stay open to all options, we offered Abigail for tissue or organ donation before learning that she’d be an unsuitable donor.)
Life and death touches all of us sooner or later. In the immortal words of one of my favorite composers:
Into every life a little rain must fall
And losing one you love is like a storm
But storms are passing (“I hear Leisha” MWS)
Thomas Monson, the man I sustain as a living prophet of God, recently said, “Through tears and trials, through fears and sorrows, through the heartache and loneliness of losing loved ones, there is assurance that life is everlasting. Our Lord and Savior is the living witness that such is so” (Thomas S. Monson, “I know that My Redeemer Lives!” Ensign, May 2007, 25 emphasis added).
Through recent events I’ve been reminded that nothing mortal is ever certain. Physical or tangible influences are not more powerful than the immortal or the spiritual. Thus, it is HOW one lives and not how long a person lives, that truly matters. It is not the check marks on the days of the calendar that carries lasting value but the checks of conscience on how one lives today. Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. Abigail reminds us of this. So as I watch her come startled into this world, struggle briefly, and then pass peacefully I’m reminded of the truth of the words of modern prophets that “there is no tragedy in death, but only in sin” (Spencer W Kimball Brigham Young University Devotional, Provo, Utah, December 6,1955).
Therefore, if I move in line with my Father’s plan, the only thing that I make certain in my life is that while I live TODAY I can and will strive to live a life that blesses others in righteousness. That is power! That is peace! That is within my hands! That is something that my sweet girl has taught me in a few minutes and without words: imparting more wisdom than those who believe themselves to be wise try to spend hours in lengthy debate or instruction. As death approached and as my precious daughter passed from her tiny mortal body while holding my finger something amazing happened. As I saw her little almost-three-pound frame accept and welcome the inevitable, I saw peace in her face and she looked quite tranquil. This is the same peace I experience in my life as I accept God’s will for me throughout this ordeal and in other areas in my life.
The passing of my daughter was a sublimely powerful spiritual experience where I came to better know my Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ. Through the emotional roller coaster I’ve experienced the still deep waters of his grace. Some might be tempted to ask “why would a loving God allow this to happen?” I believe that part of the answer is that he simply wants me to be more like Him.
My recent life has stretched me and pulled at my soul in a way that has not been so since my mission. A line from the Talmud says, “the deeper the sorrow the less tongue it hath.” I experienced a mixture of sadness, joy, deep gratitude, disappointment, and even emptiness in prayer where it’s hard to find the words. Even my blessing of Abigail felt a bit mechanical but then the peace returns, at times so powerfully and intensely that I can almost touch it tangibly. So amidst the flurry of emotions and uncertainties remains this one certainty born of the Holy Ghost for me and my family: God lives, he loves my family, he wants me to coincide with his will so that I can be forever with my daughter, Abigail, and the rest of my family for all of eternity. As I’m reminded of this certainty the turmoil ceases and in its place is only a quiet stillness and reassurance reminding me that this (though difficult) is far from a tragedy. It is an answer to prayer, an evidence of His keen interest in my life and his stalwart presence in my emotional tempests.
Indeed,
Into every life a little rain must fall
And losing one you love is like a storm
But storms are passing.
Therefore, as I personally experience his almighty sovereignty over all things whether they be unpleasant or evil, I press forward with a renewed sense of purpose to strive daily to live a life worthy of His grace. In the hard times of this experience he whispers “carry on,” “move forward,” “live a strong and faithful life.” This funeral for me is about celebrating the Plan of our Heavenly Father as I understand it. Amidst these challenges I find the greatest and most practical blessing of all: the encouragement, strength, power, and drive to be a better person. I want to live a life that would make my little girl proud. I want to live a life where she will joyfully point to me and say, “that’s my dad and I can’t wait to be raised by him.”
I’ve decided to close with both my witness of the truth of the atonement of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and the hope that this brings. Both to me are encapsulated in the following song that has always been powerful to me, but now has become sacred. I thank God for His plan, and I share this with all of you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Song
Where's the navigator of your destiny
Where is the dealer of this hand
Who can explain
Life and its brevity
'Cause there is nothing here
That I can understand
You and I
Have barely met
And I just don't want to let go of you yet
(Incidentally, I would mess up the divine plan if it were left up to me and my desires. I want her here, but then I’d miss out on all the growth and blessings that the Lord has already graced me with and has in store for me…)
[Abigail], hello, good-bye
I'll see you on the other side
[Abigail], sweet child of mine
I'll see you on the other side
And so I hold your tiny hand in mine
For the hardest thing I've ever had to face
Heaven calls for you
Before it calls for me
When you get there save me a place
A place where I can share your smile
And I can hold you for more than just awhile
(MWS, “Hello, Goodbye”)
Talk given by Jeffery Ammon Larsen on 2/20/10, at the funeral of his second daughter Abigail Grace Larsen (who died about 40 minutes after birth on 2/16/10).
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