What is a miracale?

I recently came across a story of a family who experienced a miracle. The story was of their baby girl who was not well when she born (I didn't retain the details of her illness.) She was in NICU and she was not doing well. This family testified that they prayed about their baby and prayed for her well-being and health. Her dad said that God told him their baby would come home alive and well. There came a point when the doctors called this family in and told them their baby was on her way out, gave them about a 5 minute time frame. The doctors told them their was no oxygen in her blood and when they saw their baby they described her as limp and lifeless. The story goes on that they all gathered around and the mom held the baby and the family decided they would just praise God. So they did....they said they praised Him and thanked him for letting their daughter come home alive and well despite the fact that she was lifeless and the doctors gave them no hope. The ending of this story is that the baby came to, became alert and is now a healthy toddler with no health issues or deficits to speak of. The family shared this testimony as witnesses to God's miracles and stated that Jesus healed the sick and raised the dead in biblical times and is still performing those miracles today.

And so I pondered for a moment....why do some families experience this type of miracle....and others don't? Where was our miracle when my brother died? Where was our miracle when we lost our first baby to an ectopic pregnancy....and our 3rd to late-term stillbirth? And then I was given my own revelation of miracles.

Sometimes the miracle isn't divine intervention of preventing tragedy. That doesn't mean there isn't a miracle. Sometimes the miracle is that you survived the tragedy. And it really is a miracle to come through some of life's experiences.

I have been a witness to many miracles that HAVE prevented tragedy. It was a miracle when I rolled my car and knicked a gas line....and I walked out of that car with my dog and neither of us had any injuries and the gas line didn't blow up. It's a miracle that some of my younger irresponsible choices didn't kill me or someone else or land me in jail. It's a miracle that my sister was in the hospital having a normal test done when she passed out and her heart rate plummeted and they lost my nephews heartbeat for a moment....and they rushed her into surgery and had Zekiel out lickety split....and he wasn't breathing....and now 6 months later he is alive and well with no marks of damage from lack of oxygen. These are just a few miracles that immediately come to mind. I am no stranger to miracles of this sort.

Neither am I stranger to miracles of the more hidden variety. I am in many support groups and so many grieving parents often wonder WHY this terrible thing of pregnancy and infant loss has plagued them? And this question has drifted across my own mind, although I never allow it to dwell.

So I didn't get the miracle of being in the exact right place at the exact right time so they could get Emerson out lickety split and save her. That was not the miracle I received. That does not mean there wasn't a miracle in her loss. So many people hear about the loss of a baby and say "I couldn't do that" or "I can't even imagine." Other statements made are things like "I would lose my mind," "I would never be able to handle that." Well my friends, nobody can. But nobody is really given a choice. It's not the kind of thing there is a sign up sheet for and you say "Oh I think I can handle that put my name on that list." Doesn't work that way. But do you know how many families DO handle it? How many families DO experience this tragedy that nobody thinks they can face? SO. MANY. So many families experience pregnancy and infant loss, from early pregnancy....to late pregnancy....to bringing a sweet baby home only to lose them so suddenly to SIDS or other tragic incidents that nobody foresaw. And NOBODY goes into such an experience thinking "I can totally handle this. I got this." Nobody. The disbelief, the shock, the blind sideness, the overwhelming breath taking grief that takes hold of you when you learn your baby is gone.....that does not feel like something you can live through. You wonder HOW you will live through it.

Do you know how people get through these tragedies? It's a miracle. That is not just a phrase or a figure of a speech. It is true and genuine miracle and it is the grace that God bestows upon us that let's us SURVIVE such incidents. While I did not experience the miracle of physical healing or raising of the dead with Emerson....I experienced EMOTIONAL healing and what could have been the death of my spirituality was actually what gave me GROWTH and more spiritual life then I have ever experienced. THAT is a miracle. I have witnessed this same miracle when my younger brother died suddenly and tragically at age 20....and every space of my mom's home...from floor to ceiling.....from wall to wall....in every room....the presence of God was there. HE WAS THERE. He was with us....have you ever experienced a closeness to God in such a physical way??? THAT IS A MIRACLE!!!!! Our hospital room when we had Emerson was filled with the spirit of God....HE WAS THERE. Our nurses...while they maybe couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was....KNEW there was SOMETHING in our presence that was special. Y'all......THAT IS THE MIRACLE!!!

Coming through some of life's most traumatic, trying and treacherous (unrelated: why do all of the words in that category start with T??) hardships and still standing...sometimes standing even taller than ever.....and still believing and still having a hold (an even stronger hold even!) to your faith.....those experiences friends....those are truly miracles. Those are the miracles that I will witness to. And when that thought starts to float across my mind.....why me??....I will let it float right back out because I will be reminded of the so many miracles that God has granted me.

Happy early Birthday, E...

     I have thought about Emerson’s first birthday pretty much since the day after she was born.
     This week is kind of a weeklong anniversary of days we didn’t know would be our last with Emerson.  Yesterday (July 25) marked the 1-year anniversary of my last prenatal appointment in which everything was normal and Emerson had a great heartbeat. Today marks the 1-year anniversary of the last movements I felt from her. Tomorrow will be 1 year since I realized she hadn’t moved and confirmed her heart had stopped and Friday will be 1 year since our sweet daughter’s physical being was earth-side. It’s funny how dates are something you kind of cling to. They become so much more significant when you are grieving and trying to attach to anything that acknowledges your child’s existence.
   I remember calling the nurses to take her at about 11 p.m. July 28, 2016 knowing when they took her away she would not be coming back. 8 hours with Emerson’s physical being was all the time I would ever get. In the days and weeks…maybe even months…I would try to just hold to every feature and the feeling of her weight in my arms. I would try to breathe in a scent from her blanket that I could directly relate to her. Anything I could do to somehow feel closer to her for as long as I could, desperately trying to keep it all from drifting away.
     When I woke up in the morning it was with this fresh and raw grief and some shock and I would wonder what it would feel like in year and if I could even survive this heart ache that long. Would it always hurt this deeply? I would try to imagine my new life with this new version of myself. It seemed overwhelming to think that I would get through the next month much less the next year but I thought about it anyway.
    Looking back on the past 12 months, I marvel that it has already been a year since I went through the most life-altering experience I’ve ever had (followed closely by my brothers unexpected death in 2012). I still grieve my daughter. As a human…as a mother…I will feel a measure of that loss every day of my life. I am living proof (as are many women I have met on this journey) that you can survive the heart ache that you thought would destroy you. This “new life” and this “new self” can be good and it’s ok for it to be good.

      I have a dear friend who is a brand-new mommy. She birthed a perfect, beautiful baby boy 4 days ago and today I had the privilege of meeting him. Seeing my beautiful friend, radiant with love and awe of her perfect baby, filled my heart with so much joy. I could not help smiling as she stared at her baby in adoration and shared some of her birth story. She let me hold him and I felt all the ooey-gooey warm fuzzies you get when you are holding such a pure and innocent baby. I am over the moon for my friend and her family. She has waited a long time to be able to be a mommy and seeing that dream fulfilled for her was amazing.
       The first time I was really around a baby after losing Emerson was at Christmas. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law were there with our niece, roughly 2 months old at time. My sister-in-law and I were 8 weeks apart in our pregnancies. I knew they would be there (and of course, they had the right to be) and I was so glad they were there. I knew it would be hard to be around baby B so soon after losing Emerson and knowing how close in age they should have been. I held her and cried immediately. I continued to cry as I held this sweet baby and admired her preciousness while simultaneously thinking about Emerson, who was not here for her first Christmas. Baby B’s mommy cried too. She cried with me and she told me she didn’t know what to say or how to act. I didn’t either this was a new experience for all of us. New babies are not generally met with both joy and grief. It got easier as the weekend went on but not without having to excuse myself throughout the visit.
         So, today, when I saw this new baby boy born 6 days before Emerson’s 1^st birthday and I was able to feel so much joy and love without grief battling them, I realized just how much healing has been done in just one short year.

      I almost feel like there might be a relief when we complete the 1-year circle of losing Emerson. All the firsts will be done. We will have faced everything we thought we couldn’t. Her first holidays, the 1-year date of finding out I was pregnant with her, all the 1-year dates of our ultrasounds and appointments. Mingled in with facing all the “1-year” marks were pregnancy announcements and new babies, all of which were the epitome of joy and sorrow interwoven. Now that we have survived the last year it feels like a little of the weight has been lifted. One year ago, we wondered how we would go on with our lives and now we don’t have to wonder anymore. We are never going to forget Emerson, we are never going to not miss her and we are never going to not love her. Thankfully we have been lent strength and grace from God and we know that He has answered many prayers (including our own) on our behalf. I have said it many times and I will say it many times more: While I would never have chosen this experience (of course, nobody would), God has used it for good, for Heavenly gain and to help Matt and I grow. We have experienced growth as individuals, as parents, as spouses and as friends. We have been softened. We have felt more love than we knew we had and every relationship we have has been changed, even if just slightly, because of this experience.
        We are in a good place (if there is a “good place” in grief). We do sometimes wonder just how different life would be if we had two toddlers running around the house and then are made more grateful for the one we do have. We talk about Emerson and can smile about her beautiful dark hair and her habit of keeping her foot in my ribs when I was pregnant. When talking about pregnancy I include my pregnancy with Emerson. She is still very much a part of our lives. She will always be our first daughter and our second baby and so during this week of 1-year marks, I will try to remember what her last movements felt like and what it was like to hold her and I will smile when I think of the 35 weeks that I was her mother.

                                                    Happy Birthday, Emerson Paige.
                                                                        7/28/2016

Roscoe and "Sister Bear" 

The Waves

Yesterday was Halloween. Roscoe and I dressed up and we went to the mall and we went trick or treating. There were baby bumblebees and baby lady bugs and baby pumpkins and babies sleeping, snuggled up in their baby wrap close to their mama's. And there were pregnant women waddling their way through with their children making the rounds to all the candy stations. I saw them. I smiled at them. Mostly I ignored them.

Emerson would have been 3 months on October 28. The day came and went. I made mention of her and thought of her. It didn't overwhelm me. It didn't eat at me. It simply...was. I briefly thought back to the day of her birth and they days that followed. I snuggled her bear to bed. I don't think I even cried that day.

The weekend before, October 22, we took Roscoe to "Boo at the Zoo". We put his dragon suit on and we walked him through the exhibits and the many, many, many....did I mention many? people. We hit the candy stations. We called it a night. There were so many little babies, specifically baby girls. Their were babies in Halloween pajamas and babies in Halloween onesies and babies in Halloween costumes. There were giant Halloween headbows. There were equally as many "ready to pop" pregnant women. I passed each one. I offered a smile. I didn't cringe. I didn't cry. I didn't try to kidnap any babies and I didn't push any pregnant women. I didn't lose it. I made a passing comment to Matt about the suckiness of not having Emerson here. We moved on.

On October 20 my sister in law gave birth to their new baby girl, Emerson's cousin. The night before her induction I was a slight mess....ecstatic for them....sad....really really really sad for me. I decided I wasn't going to wallow. I was sad for me...but this day....the day of my nieces birth....it was not about me. It was about her and her mommy and her daddy and her sister. So I didn't cry that day. I waited patiently for the announcement of her arrival. I looked at her picture. I didn't cry. When I saw the picture of all them...mommy, daddy, sister and baby....I cried. I cried for me. I cried for my family of 4 that physically is only a family of 3. I cried for the pictures I didn't get to take with Emerson and Roscoe together. I cried for the celebration of Emerson's safe arrival that we didn't have.

So that timeline there is a little backwards. That's just the way it came out. That's a little of what Halloween has brought to my plate. It's the first "major" holiday that should have been Emerson's first.

 A lady at my support group tonight told me it was brave to go to "Boo at the Zoo". I don't know if it was brave or not. I just know that it was a lot of fun for Roscoe and I can't just sit at home and avoid all the babies and pregnant women just because my baby died. It's not like it's the other babies fault. It's not the fault of the other pregnant women. These people don't even know me. They don't know my story. They are completely unaware of my dead baby. So, I don't really think it was brave. It was just...right. It was the right thing to do for Roscoe. To let him still enjoy his childhood and the things we can do with him. The same thing with the mall trick or treating. I can't just avoid these public places because there might be a pregnant lady or a baby. I have to grocery shop, I have to get gas, I have to go to work, I have to run errands, I have to go to appointments....this is functional life and having a dead baby is not an "opt out" for a functioning life. What kind of childhood memories would I give to my living son if I boarded myself up in my house, laid out on the couch and wallowed in self-pity over my dead daughter? So, if I have learned anything (and oh have I learned things....) from Emerson's death, it's to appreciate Roscoe's life. To give him the best childhood I am capable of giving him. To make sure he gets to participate and enjoy the little fun things in life. Like "Boo at the Zoo" and trick or treating.

That's actually not where I was originally going with this blog. I actually intended to write about my anger stage of grief. But the more I typed, the less angry I felt. As the words formed into my head and the emotions came forth. this is what came out. I'm as surprised as anyone else by this blog. I didn't come here with anticipation of writing about appreciating Roscoe's childhood. I came here to rant and rave and vent about not having Emerson. I wanted to write about how the 2 baby announcements and the gender reveal on my news feed today pricked at my heart. And yes, I am in a bit of an angry stage. It's a hard stage...because I am not angry at God. I am not angry AT anyone. I have nowhere to direct this anger. I feel a little bit like my 2 year old right now....I just want to throw a fit but I don't really know where or who to direct that towards. I feel like the bratty kid who didn't get her way but watches as everyone around her is getting their way....but it's not actually anyone else's fault that I didn't get my way. It would be much easier if I had somewhere or someone to direct these emotions towards...to throw it at them and get it away from me. It's just another part of the grief journey that I am on and some where along the way...hopefully sooner than later...this part will pass....and then I will delve into the next part. 

"Grief, when allowed to progress naturally, tends to come in waves. After the first initial shock of the loss abates, waves of sorrow begin to wash over you rather unpredictably. At first the waves are huge and close together and you are afraid that you will drown. Eventually, they get smaller and more manageable,and you grow less afraid of them, although a big one can still take you by surprise. The phrase (working through) grief means that you are able to get to the point where you can just stand there and let the waves sweep over you and not try to run or pretend you're not getting soaked. Standing there feeling the waves, you start to realize that this is as bad its going to get and you begin to understand that you are going to survive. That's when you start to pass through to the other side of mourning: accepting and making peace with your loss" -Kim Kluger- Bell from a book titled Unspeakable Losses

When I Ask Why

When faced with tragedy it is often in our human nature to question it. Why did this happen to me? Why do I have to face this experience? What did I do in life that I am being punished in such a harsh manner? This happens in financial troubles, loss of loved ones we feel are gone too soon, when terminal illness hits us or those close to us....that is not even the tip of the ice burg in tragedies that effect people everyday. People who don't "deserve" to face such hardships in life. So we question....why? 


I have found that instead of asking why? Why did this happen to us? I find myself looking at it differently and instead questioning why not?  I was familiar that still birth was a "thing" before I personally experienced it with Emerson. Personally, I have 2 uncles/aunt who had stillborn babies and also know several other families that had stillborn babies. I think I personally knew 3 outside of my family who faced this experience, but now I know that so many other people I know have faced the same thing. I would have to sit and think and count to even get a ballpark number of how many friends have come to us and said "we had the same experience" (most of these being from older generations). I was not naive to stillbirth in general, only naive that stillbirth could happen to me. 

But, why not? Why did I think we would immune to this experience? Why did I think it couldn't happen to us? We aren't bad people but we aren't such amazing and great people that we should be so special as to never have to have experiences like this. I do have a strong faith and I know that God knows. How can I question someone who knows all? How can I question a God who loves His own so much that not only did he send his own Son to live the life of a man, to face persecution and rejection and ultimately crucifixion and even forsook Jesus and turned away from him when he was crucified, all so we could find salvation? All so we could have a hope of spending eternity in a place where there is no sickness, there is no grief and there is no struggle? Can you imagine such a love?! So, if Jesus, the only begotten son of God, the only perfect man, lived on this earth and faced all the normal temptations that every person has PLUS persecution and rejection and death on the cross, why would I be exempt from any pain and suffering? Even God's disciples in the new testament faced persecution, imprisonment and suffering. Many faithful servants in the old testament also faced trial and tribulation and experiences that were so....huge. Job, a loyal and faithful servant of God lost everything naturally...all of his wealth, his family, his health....but he never lost his love and he never lost his faith. The devil was personally allowed to attack Job and take everything but his life. Why? God said "this man loves me and this man is a faithful servant. Tempt him in anyway you chose and you will see that you can not shake his faith. You will see that even when he is stripped of everything naturally good in this life, my faithful servant Job will not turn his back on me." Even Jobs friends said "We would understand if you were angry with God. We would understand if your faith has been shaken" but it wasn't. Job was faithful. So, why not me? Why should I be exempt from trial and tribulation? I may not have Emerson....but I have my husband, I have my son, we have our home, we have our health, we are not hungry, we are not without anything we need and even have extra sometimes for frivolous things. So, Emerson died....am I going to allow that one thing to consume my being and turn my back to everything else that is good in my life? How can I? The beautiful thing about holding onto my faith in this experience is that God is able to draw near in a way that wouldn't have even been possible before. He sends a comfort and a peace that I surely would not be able to receive if I were to turn my back on Him because of this one tragedy. Emerson never had to face trials and tribulation in her life. She never had a bad thought, she never knew sin, she never knew heartache, she was never faced with hardships. She only ever knew love and peace and comfort. I never have to wonder if her she was "right with God" because she never had a chance to be anything but right with God. I never have to wonder, did my baby make it to Heaven? Because without a doubt, she did.

Today Could've Been the Day

Today is August 31, 2016. Today is the day that our daughter Emerson Paige was due to come into the world. A due date is only a guesstimate so it's not like without a doubt today would have been Emerson's birthday had she not been stillborn. Still, it's a "milestone". One of many we have already faced and one of many more we will face in the future.

Daughtry - Gone Too Soon

Today could've been the day

That you blow out your candles

Make a wish as you close your eyes

Today could've been the day

Everybody was laughin'

Instead I just sit here and cry

Who would you be?

What would you look like

When you looked at me for the very first time?

Today could've been the next day of the rest of your life

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose

Such a ray of light we never knew

Gone too soon, yeah

We we're given our due date based on a dating ultrasound. We got a little peek at Emerson when she was still an alien peanut blob form. We were told this is the most accurate way of determining a due date when there is not a "last menstrual cycle" date (which there was not for me). As soon as we got home I marked every Wednesday with the gestational week I was in from January to August 31, when I would be 40 weeks.

I have been dreading this day since we found out Emerson died on July 27. I have been surprised to find today has not been as difficult or emotional as I had imagined. I can only assume this has to do with a couple of things. 1) We have had 5 weeks to process and grieve. While that is a very short time for a journey of grief and we are nowhere close to "done" grieving (if you ever actually get done grieving....), we still have had 5 weeks. It's not as raw or fresh. The shock has all but worn off and we have accepted this reality (as if there is any other choice). 2) Matt and I have talked about the upcoming of today for the last 3 days. I feel like we faced it before it even got here and now that it's here we've already sorted through the emotions of what today would have meant for us if Emerson had not died. Finally, we both were pretty convinced Emerson was going to come about a week early like Roscoe did so to us today was her estimated due date but we had our own idea of when she would be here (I was betting on August 24). 

Last night I worked a little bit on Emerson's memory book. I was also surprised to find this activity did not bring forth the emotions I had anticipated. There was a comfort as I read through each of the notes written to us in sympathy. A reminder once again in each memento made and mailed that Emerson was everyone's baby and that even now we do not grieve her alone. The grief of this experience has the potential to be so heavy it crushes us but it doesn't crush us and it's not too heavy because we do not carry it alone. God carries the heaviest part and the rest is distributed out to all of us here who love Emerson. Because of this Matt and I have been able to carry our portion of grief over Emerson and we are grateful. 

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I have found that my "moments" don't come at the "expected" times. You feel like there are going to be triggers. For example, today. I thought that because it was a milestone in this journey it would be a trigger for emotion over the loss of Emerson. I have found it to be more true that the expected triggers really aren't triggers at all. Looking at pictures of Emerson, reading her journey in my previous blog post, looking at her memorial corner, working on her memory book, certain dates, talking about our experience, etc. are all things I would expect to pull that emotional trigger but they generally don't. The times that my "moments" come are in the middle of an ordinary day when I am chasing Roscoe and keeping up the house and running errands and just doing the things that are mine to do...those are the times that a wave of grief comes washing over me out of nowhere. Those are the times that I think "If Emerson were here this is how today would be different." I take these moments as they come and I accept them and allow them. I don't avoid my grief or deny it. I just take it as it comes and am thankful that because of the prayers and uplifting of others and the answer of our Father in Heaven I am not consumed by this grief. I am also grateful for Roscoe. I love my role as a mom, specifically as Roscoe's mom and because of this I don't even have the desire to throw my hands up and not face life. There are days that my son tries every part of my being but there is not one moment that I would miss with him. He is our little light in a place that doesn't seem like there could be any light. Today is no exception. 

Gerrit Hoffsink - Still

Sometimes I find myself wondering what to do

With this pain that I'm going through

But I know one day, God will take me away

And I'm coming home to you

And when I do

And look at you

My heart is healing

I know it's true

 Lost you before I found you

Gone before you came

But I love you just the same

Missed you before I met you

On earth we never can

But in heaven we'll meet again

"Though my earthly hopes be shattered and the teardrops fall, yet He is Himself my solace, yea my all in all"

The Journey of Emerson Paige

Emerson Paige Hill was born "sleeping" at 35 weeks on July 28, 2016 at 3:28pm. She was 6lbs 6oz, 19 3/4" and perfect in every way...except that she never took her first breath. There were no obvious signs as to why her heart stopped beating. No cord issues. No placental issues. An ultrasound just a week and half before showed a perfectly active little girl weighing in the 89th percentile (5lbs 11oz) for her gestation (33weeks and 5days). Amniotic fluid levels were great.

Two days before we had a prenatal appointment. Again there was no reason to think that our baby girl would not come home to us on her birthday. Her heart rate was strong, her movements were strong, my vitals were perfect. I had tested negative for gestational diabetes, I had no indicators for preeclampsia. We were given the clear to go on our family vacation to Arkansas and Louisiana that we were to leave for the following week. I had just finished buying all the last minute items....a few pacifiers, some bottles, some pumping and breastfeeding supplies, her first headbands, some newborn diapers. I had placed an order with Honest Company for a shipment of newborn diapers also so we would be plenty stocked by the time Emerson arrived. Everything was sanitized and ready to be used. Roscoe's old binky clip now held a new bear shaped purple binky. Her clothes were all washed and folded and put in her dresser. The only thing we were missing was to rearrange the living room to accommodate her baby swing and order the birth supplies for our home birth. We were 5 weeks away, counting down anxiously and talking about our hopes and dreams for Emerson. Talking about how life would change, wondering how Roscoe would take to a new baby and what kind of big brother he would be. Talking about the hours we would spend holding her and rocking her and loving her. We were *this* close to our "completed" family.


January 5, 2016: I took a pregnancy test that was immediately positive. This was a shock to us as I was on birth control. I was still nursing Roscoe and had not had a cycle since getting pregnant with him in March of 2014. I tested at random every few months, just in case. I didn't want to be the next "I didn't know I was pregnant" story (seriously I don't even know how that's a thing). I never actually expected it to be positive. I freaked out a little bit and Matt took it with grace. We had no reference for dating purposes so my amazing midwife set up a dating ultrasound for us. The next day, not even kidding, morning sickness hit so hard and it did not go away until well into the second trimester and even threw up fairly regularly in my third trimester.It was like being constantly car sick. I threw up often and Roscoe quickly picked up on that and started mimicking me vomiting in the toilet...every single time. He thought he was so hilarious.

January 26: Our first ultrasound. We waited 3 WEEKS to find out how far along I was. The ultrasound determined I was 8weeks and 6days pregnant meaning we found out right at the 6week mark. 

Emerson Paige, 8weeks 6days. Her head is to the left...she was still in the alien peanut stage

Announcing to the general public (I.E. Facebook announcement)

February 2: First "bump" photo...obviously Emerson was not big enough to make an actual bump but baby bloat can totally pass as a bump in the first trimester. It makes bloated first trimester moms feel better to call it a bump instead of bloat (or at least this mom, anyway).

9weeks6days

February 18: Finally to the (supposedly) blessed 2nd trimester. I had high hopes of subsiding morning sickness and a second trimester energy burst. FAIL. Did not happen. "Morning" sickness (totally deceitful name....I was sick all day everyday and lost 5 pounds in my first trimester) was still in full swing and energy levels were in the negative zone, which I did not even know could happen or that you could function at that point. Unfortunately, I had no choice but to continue functioning. Despite my "condition" I was still a mom to Roscoe and a wife to Matt and still had clients I was cleaning for every week. These were not fun days but hey we all powered through.

12weeks 1day (2nd trimester)

February 28: Cravings! Hot pickles...a very specific brand of hot pickles. After I ate the hot pickle I would freeze the pickle juice until it was icy but not solid and eat it with a spoon. At the time it was the best thing I've ever eaten. Now, I enjoy a hot pickle but it's not a must-have-or-die craving. 

Seriously could not get enough. 

March 30: 18 weeks. Almost to the halfway mark. I bought a new swimsuit for the first time in 10 years for our Hill Family vacation. 

18 weeks of baby growing

April 20: Cravings hit again....

Ah, but the next day my craving was fulfilled

April 27: 22 weeks! Over halfway there. Feeling little flutters and small kicks. 

22weeks with Emerson and little Roscoe mimicking my belly

April 28: Roscoe doesn't really know WHAT a sister is but he knows where she is. We would ask "Where's sister?" and he would pull up my shirt and start kissing and playing with my belly as excited as ever. Sometimes even without prompting he would come and snuggle my belly or "play" with it. 

May 3: Anatomy scan at 23 weeks. ALMOST everything is perfect. IT'S A GIRL! Emerson Paige Hill. She has an enlarged right kidney and a 2 (instead of 3) vessel cord. These are soft markers for genetic disorders. We decline further testing. There are no other indicators of genetic disorders and these 2 things are really benign and "generally" do not affect babies health. She shows no signs of distress, left kidney is functioning perfectly, amniotic fluid is perfect meaning she is swallowing and "voiding" appropriately. She has no indication of growth restriction from her 2 vessel cord. A follow up with a geneticist is recommended and we take an appointment. We share this news with our families but not the general public because it is so vague and we really don't know what any of it means or what genetic disorders (if any) may be present. More questions than answers at this point but are assured that most likely Emerson's "condition" is not anything to be overly concerned about and should not affect her quality of life. 

May 6: Roscoe and I go shopping for Emerson. After all a little baby girl needs some little baby dresses!

This dress was my favorite. It was going to be the first dress she wore to church.

May 10: 25 weeks. It's my 26th birthday!! Roscoe and I are treated to dinner by Emily and Austin. 

May 13: We meet with a genetic counselor. The "genetic disorder" Emerson has soft markers for is down syndrome but she has no other indications of down syndrome and if she did it would not matter to us, we would want her all the same. The risk of down syndrome is 1/1463 at my age and with Emerson's markers (or something close to that). The diagnosis we are given at this appointment is "multi-cystic kidney".  We were told she had multiple cysts in her right kidney from what they could see. Kidney function could not be determined in utero and Emerson would need an evaluation after birth to determine kidney function and treatment plan. While it wasn't "your baby is 100% perfect" news, it also was not a "big deal". Lots of people function with one kidney and her left kidney was in perfect health. A follow up ultrasound was scheduled just to check up on her kidneys. They wanted to make sure the right kidney did not reach "concerning" enlargement and to make sure her left kidney stayed healthy and didn't grow enlarged from trying to compensate for the potential lack of right kidney function. All in all not a grim a diagnosis and again reassured this should not affect the overall quality of her life. 

May 31: Day of the follow up ultrasound. Emerson again looks perfect in all areas except her right kidney. She is in the 93rd percentile in weight for her gestational age (aka Emerson is a chunky baby) Today they tell us that what they are seeing doesn't look like cysts after all but rather is fluid build up. From what they are able to tell via ultrasound the MFM specialist (maternal fetal medicine) believes Emerson's ureter (the tube from kidney to bladder) may have connected in the wrong spot or has a kink of some sort. Again the plan of action after birth is for Emerson to have an evaluation and possibly undergo a minor corrective surgery. Again, we are reassured this is not a huge deal and Emerson's quality of life should not be affected. 

June 10: Third trimester. We are in the home stretch. 11weeks and 5days until due date. I am a terrible pregnant person. I throw up every morning. It doesn't matter if I eat or not. Whatever I do eat throughout the day comes back up about 80% of the time. Water gives me heartburn. Emerson has her left foot buried in my left rib. She is crazy active all day every day until someone wants to feel her move or I try to film her movements that make my tummy look like an alien invasion has taken place. My back hurts, I can't breathe and I finally caved and bought a body pillow to sleep with. Poor Matt listens to me complain and my poor boss Lorna listens to me complain and lets me leave the front desk to pee approximately every 20 minutes. I am not taking any of this with grace. I love Emerson. I am beyond excited to be adding a little girl to our family but I am so ready for pregnancy to be over. The count down is definitely on. 

28weeks 2days of baby growing (third trimester)

July 4: I didn't get a patriotic bump picture but I did get a picture of sweet Roscoe and I. We went to the parade in Canyon and then walked downtown. It was hot. Seriously...hot. We walked....A LOT. I had braxton hicks like crazy and my ankles swelled up. I drank lots of water and put my feet up when we got home and I was good as new. It was worth it, too....Roscoe had a blast. Even if he wouldn't eat funnel cake. Plus, we all got an awesome nap afterwards. 

July 7: 32 weeks and 1 day of baby growing completed. I have been working for Lorna at her new salon, Indigo Road Salon and Spa since June 1. This is a picture of Emerson and I at work. I wake up at least every 1 1/2 hours every night to pee and pop some tums. 

July 14: 33weeks 1day. Who was counting? Me. I was counting. 

July 18: 33weeks and 5days. Another follow up ultrasound of sweet Emerson. All is still looking well. Her right kidney is still enlarged but amniotic fluid levels are still great which means she is still swallowing and voiding as she should. Left kidney is still in perfect health. Heart is strong. Vital organs all check out as they should. They find her foot that's been buried in my rib for a month now. Confirmed she is head down in preparation of her debut. She is now measuring in the 89th percentile for her gestational age at an estimated 5lbs 11oz. All seems fine, no major health concerns for me or Emerson. No follow up ultrasound is scheduled. 

Last sonogram pictures of Emerson Paige Hill

July 19: Matt and I are planning out our last few weeks before Emerson's arrival. We are getting ready for a 4 day church convention. After that we would have 1 week of work, then we were to be off to our family vacation in Arkansas and Louisiana. I was approved by my midwife to take this trip. After our trip, I would have one week of work left and then one week to "nest". Then it would be two weeks from Emerson's due date and we were truly expecting her to take a leaf from Roscoe's book and come a little before her due date....or at least we were really hoping. Matt had big plans for his baby girl. She was going to be "daddy's girl" and he had all kinds of things planned for them. We spent most of our time talking about Emerson, her arrival, our plans when she arrived, how we thought Roscoe would handle it, etc. 

July 20: Roscoe has his 18 month appointment. While there I ask about Emerson since she will need an evaluation 24-48 hours after birth, The pediatric nurse tells me we should have no problem getting Emerson in quickly after she is born (I was worried about our home birth delaying us because I really did have quite a time getting Roscoe into a doctor after he was born because he was born at home...that's an entire other blog that hasn't been written...) and that hydro ureter (Emerson's official diagnosis) is usually something that fixes itself after birth.

July 20: Day 1 of our church convention. There had been some, to put it lightly, recent public drama between my sisters and I, on social media of all places. I may have been an instigator. In any case, on this day at our church convention amends were made. I'm fairly certain my mom would have died if her three daughters were at odds at convention...awkward much? Besides, if I didn't make up with Charity she probably wasn't going to get Emerson's headbands or give her any fashion sense and she would be stuck with my less than "girly" fashion and anyway Charity was wearing a really cute skirt and I had to tell her how cute it was. I couldn't not tell her. Charity got to feel Emerson kick while we were at convention, I complained about how pregnant and hot and miserable I was (because, again, I am not a graceful pregnant person. Charity is a "magical unicorn pregnant person"...she loves it, she's good at it....she doesn't get morning sickness or charlie horses...it's sickening).

July 24: 34weeks and 4days. We are home from a 4 day "soul"-cation. Four days at our annual church convention having our souls fed. We heard so many things. Here are the things that have stuck prominently with me: 1) every life experience has the potential to make you bitter or better. 2) Redeem the time. Every experience can be redeemed for spiritual value. How will you redeem your experience? and 3) We can not do anything of ourselves. Anything good that is in me is from God. Alone I am weak and incapable, only through the guidance and strengthening of our Heavenly Father can I face anything in life with a hope of coming out better. I was also still very miserable. I was DONE being pregnant. I was over throwing up, over not being able to breathe, over having a baby foot in my rib....I wanted Emerson to come to earth side. I knew she needed to bake just a little longer for her well being but holy cow I really sucked at being pregnant.  

July 25: Sandra comes to our house to do a prenatal check up. Emerson's heartbeat is strong and steady. My urine is clear of glucose or proteins. Blood pressure is perfect. We start talking about supplies needed for our home water birth. We make a list and decide we will get them all within the next week or two. We go over the report from my ultrasound. Nothing of concern was noted.

July 26: The last night I felt Emerson. She was active as always and even let Matt her feel her for more than a second. While I loved feeling her because it really is a pretty cool thing to experience, ya'll I was SO TIRED OF BEING PREGNANT. 

July 27: I wake up. I feed Roscoe. I get him ready for the day. I get ready for work. Breanna comes over to babysit and i'm out the door. I go about my morning....work at 8:45, perform my opening duties. Pee 20 times. At about 10 it starts dawning on me I have not noticed Emerson's usual jabs and rolls. Her foot is not jabbed into my rib. I eat. I drink. I poke. I prod. I lay on my left side. I attempt to do kick counts...but there are no kicks. Nothing to count. Not a flutter. For an hour and a half I ponder this and think about it and focus on it and try to get her to move. I am trying not to be paranoid and dramatic. I text Matt. Emerson hasn't moved...should I be worried? I text my midwife. My boss urges me to call my midwife. I call her. She tells me to come see her. 

35week bump pic. Was to be used as our 35week photo...it was as I was taking this picture I realized I hadn't felt Emerson that morning.

I drive to Sandra's house in some sort of limbo. Has she really not moved this morning or have I just been so absorbed in other things I haven't noticed it? Am I being dramatic or should I be worrying more about this? I get to Sandra's at 11:45am. She walks me in her room. She gets her doppler. She puts the goop on. Immediately I know. There is no sound coming from the doppler. No swishes. No thumps. No cord sounds. No heartbeat. I ask, even though I know. Do you hear anything you are supposed to be hearing? Her hands are shaking but she is composed. "No. I don't". She listens just a bit longer, just to be sure. I cry. I ask her what's next. She says we will go to the hospital to confirm Emerson's heart has stopped. She tells me she is so sorry. I cry. I call Matt. She calls the hospital to let them know we are coming. She drives me to the hospital and we meet Matt. In no time at all the ultrasound is done and it is confirmed: The baby has passed. It looks to be a pretty recent passing. Something about her chest cavity hadn't caved in and some other indications that Emerson had died less than 24 hours ago, maybe even less than 12 hours ago. Matt and I had just been playing with her the night before. She was going nuts but not so much that I felt she was in distress. She was always going nuts. She was an active booger. Matt felt her strong rolls and kicks. We talked to her. We poked her. She responded to each of our touches. Now here we were in the hospital and Emerson had died. Matt and I cry together. He makes a few phone calls to notify some of our family and friends. The nurse takes just about all of my blood, i'm pretty sure. Sandra is still here with us and a few more visitors have arrived. They begin to tell us what's next. They can induce me or we can wait it out and see if my body goes into labor on it's own. We chose induction right away. I love Emerson but if she is dead then staying inside isn't going to make her less dead. Plus we are told that if we do decide to wait it out that Emerson's physical condition would deteriorate (a pretty obvious statement) and we wanted to see her as "normal" as possible so the sooner we got her out the better. A cervical check determines I am dilated 1cm but my cervix is high, long and firm. More visitors come in. It's amazing how quickly our dear church friends have got the message and come in to support us. I do not mind the visitors at all. The nurse begins to tell us about other decisions we will need to make during this process. Will we want an autopsy? Will we want chromosome testing? Will we want a traditional burial or cremation? They will give us a list of funeral homes to talk to when we are ready. Do we want Frames of Love to come in a do pictures after she is born? What kind of delivery and birth plan do I have in mind? The list of decisions to make is long. We decide we want to be induced ASAP so they plan is to insert a cervical pill to ripen my cervix. They will check me 3-4 hours after insertion to see if it's had any affect and we will take it from there. I tell them I want drugs. For me, my natural birth plan is no longer relevant. There is no reward for the labor here. I don't want to feel "empowered" by this experience. I just want to get my little girl out so we can spend whatever time we will have cuddling her tiny body. I tell them I want whatever they can give me when the pain of labor starts that will make me "out of it" and that I want the epidural closer to delivery time so I can be alert and aware when she is born. They are very accommodating and accepting of this plan. They all just want me to be comfortable and are willing to help me in anyway that they are able to. I seriously love all the doctors and the nurse I have come into contact with already, so far. 

My midwife Sandra is still with us. Even though she doesn't have hospital privileges (meaning medically) she is still there supporting us. She is amazing. She checks with us to make sure all the decisions we have made so far are truly what we want and that we have not felt pressured or persuaded into anything we don't actually want. We have declined an autopsy as we were told anything they would see in an autopsy they would have seen on the ultrasound. Insurance doesn't pay for autopsy so it would be an out of pocket expense. We are undecided on chromosomal testing (we do eventually decide to go ahead with chromosomal testing, I have not received the results yet). I really want to have the pictures done, Matt is undecided so we decide not to decide right now (again, later we decide to have them done). We decide not to bring Roscoe in after she is born. He would sense the grief but he wouldn't understand what was going on. We have decided on cremation instead of a burial. While I know it is only "what is left" and Emerson's soul will not be part of her body I still can't stand the thought that if we ever move we would not be able to take "Emerson" with us. Also, I wanted what was left of Emerson to be home with us. The last part of this decision was because planning your baby's memorial service before she is even born is hard enough. I did not want to have to pick out a casket and a burial plot and plan a burial service along with a memorial service. It was too much. All of it was too much. 

4pm: We are moved to a bigger room. The cervix medicine is inserted. Our visitors are brought to our new room. It's all a waiting game now. Waiting for our family to get in. Waiting for the medicine to work. Waiting for our "sleeping" baby girl. I had started having contractions before the cervical medicine (I was given 2 kinds of cervix ripening meds and I can't remember which is which...one was a pill inserted that they checked after 3-4 hours. The other was a gel inserted for 12 hours). They weren't painful contractions, more like braxton hicks. Tightening and uncomfortable but not painful. They were consistent though. I'm hooked up to a contraction monitor. I have an IV lock in place. I've got this terrific hospital gown about 3 sizes too big. The visitors each make their way out. Nothing but time on our hands now. The hospital staff is amazing. Sandra stays with us but takes a walk every now and then to give us some space. 

6pm: My family arrives. My sisters, my mom and my nieces. They all come in and love us. There are more tears. Emerson is everyone's baby, not just ours. Everyone is grieving her and she hasn't even been born yet. They tell me I can take a shower and walk around a bit because once they insert the next medication I won't be able to get out of bed for 2 hours. I walk around with my family for a bit and take a shower. Matt went home and picked up Roscoe so he could bring him to visit me. He crawls on the bed with me. He wants to push the pretty red button on my call remote (the nurse call button). He wants to take my IV lock out. He wants me to get up and run around with him. There is no way to explain this situation to a 19 month old. Why can't mommy get up a play? Why can't I take this thing out of your arm? Why can't I push this button? There's no way to explain this in toddler terms. Everyone takes turns trying to entertain Roscoe. He sits on my bed and eats a cheeseburger and plays with his cousin Audrey. Having my baby boy around gives me a certain comfort. I've never loved him as much as I love him right now.

7pm: It's shift change. I get a new nurse. I love her just as much as the one who had been caring for me. A different cervix medication is given at some point though I am not really sure of the time it is given. I think it was around this time but I'm not really sure. This one is a gel. They will check it in 12 hours and see where we are. There's more waiting. My dad makes it in. We are all making conversation and waiting. Just waiting. My younger sister takes Roscoe home. My dad orders pizza for us while I am still allowed to eat and drink. 

10pm: Sandra is back. My mother in law Pam has made it. My older sister and her girls leave. My parents and Pam decide to spend the night in the waiting room, just in case things decide to speed up. We all visit for a while. I request some sleeping medicine and my nurse happily obliges. I feel like it takes about 5 seconds to kick in. I fall asleep. There is an extra bed they have made up for Matt and Sandra sleeps in the reclining chair next to my bed. 

July 28:

4am: Contractions are really starting to kick in. I get on all fours and rock and quietly vocalize trying not to disturb Sandra and Matt. Sandra wakes up and asks about the contractions. I call the nurse and ask for pain medication. I can only have 3 doses of the fentanyl before Emerson is born and since the pain is not overbearing I opt for a lesser pain medication for now. I sleep a couple more hours. 

6am: I am awake. I can not go back to sleep. Contractions are still around but they are not overbearing and with the pain med and breathing and swaying they are easily managed. Matt and Sandra are still sleeping. I'm about to go into the lobby and find Pam and my parents and some coffee when Matt wakes up. He says he heard me earlier and that he figured I must be contracting. He finds our family and the coffee. Around 7am there is another shift change and again I love my nurse as much as the other 2 who had cared for me up to this point. 

The time frame is blurry here. The events of the morning are something along these lines: at some point I get a dose of fentanyl. My sisters come back.We requested they bring some certain outfits for Emerson and her bag of headbands I had just purchased on Monday. Seeing her tiny outfits and her tiny headbands triggers me and I cry some more. Matt has made the memorial service arrangements already. The date, time and place are set. He's already talked to the funeral home and made cremation arrangements. He's been in touch with some of our friends and has a community center rented. He s trying to take as much stress off me as he can. He is also grieving. Since there is so much support around us he takes a few walks, gets some fresh air and some space. 

This is my fentanyl face (apparently)

Roscoe and my niece Audrey are in the waiting room and everyone is taking turns caring for them and coming to visit Matt and I. We have other visitors, too. More friends from church. My aunt and uncle, my cousins and my grandma all show up at some point. I'm fuzzy and in and out of it. Contractions are regular but I hardly notice them. I'm not certain of the exact time but based on texts sent at 1pm I had received pitocin and been given an epidural along with another dose of fentanyl. I also got a nice *insert sarcasm* catheter. I didn't feel it at the time but believe you me I was quite aware there had been one there afterwards. I am nearly dilated to a 3. I think it's around 2:30 when the doctor comes in and does another cervical check. I am at a 3 and she pops my water. They say they will come check on me in a couple of hours. 

3:20somethingpm: I feel pressure. A lot of pressure. I tell Matt to hand me the call button. I feel pressurey. He doesn't quite understand what I am getting at and tells me i'm on pain medication I'm probably feeling something from that. I tell him I need to call the nurse NOW. I call and my nurse is in fairly quickly. Pam had just stepped out of the room for a walk. The nurse tells us Emerson is *right* there and it is time. We get Pam and my mom back in the room. Sandra is in there with us too. They tell me to hang tight the doctor is finishing up another delivery. I tell them if the doctor doesn't get in here quick she is going to miss this delivery. Finally the doctor shows. They tell me with the next contraction it's time to push. I am bawling...it has hit me. I am about to deliver my dead baby. I am not ready for this. How can you ever be ready for this? I say it over and over, "I'm not ready. I don't want to do this. I really do not want to do this....I am not ready". Finally I find a little composure. I say mostly to myself but audibly "Ok. Ok ok ok ok. You have to do this". Matt is holding my hand. My mom has her hand on my head. Pam has one hand on my mom and one hand on Matt. Sandra is at my feet. The nurse tells me I have a contraction coming, get ready to push. Someone holds one leg, someone holds the other. I don't know who. They tell me to take a deep breath and push. I do. They count to 10. They tell me to take another breath and push again. I do. They count to 10. Once more they tell me to breathe and push. I do. They count to 10. And there she is.3:28pm  Emerson is born. In one contraction. They ask Matt if he wants to cut the cord. He declines. We offer the chance to our moms just in case. No one wants to do it. I don't blame any of them. The doctor clamps and cuts the cord for us. They wipe her off some and hand her to me. My lifeless baby is perfect in every way....except her heart isn't beating and she will never take a breath. Her eyes are closed. She has 10 perfect fingers and 10 perfect toes. Her head is full of dark hair with a few curls. I hold her for a bit and hand her to Matt while the doctor and nurse check me out. I don't remember delivering the placenta. The nurse "massaged" my uterus and ensured I wasn't hemorrhaging. They help clean me up a bit and get me situated and decent. I didn't have any tearing so I didn't need any stitches. 

Time to push

We invite the rest of the family in. We request the nurse give Emerson a bath because her skin is so very fragile and already peeling in some places. We are afraid of  damaging her skin further if we bathed her ourselves. I request they do her measurements while they have her. Our baby girl is 6lbs 6oz and 19 3/4" long. She is big for her gestational age. They take her footprints and her hand prints. They hand her back to us and we gently put a tiny newborn diaper on her. We dress her in a onesie that says "Daddy's Princess" and some leggings with a ruffle on the butt. We put a big white flower headband on her. Dressing her is slightly challenging. We are so careful because her skin is very fragile. All of our family takes turns holding her and loving her. The nurse asks if we are ready for Frames of Love to come in. She encourages us to let them come now because Emerson's physical state will deteriorate soon (I.E. her coloring and her peeling skin). We agree to have them come now. They arrive quite quickly. We are just about to change Emerson into her next outfit, a pair of polka dot pajamas that say "Little Sister" and a pink headband with a small flower with a jewel in the center. There are two ladies from Frames of Love who have come. I only remember one of their names, Annalee. I regret that I do not remember the name of the other lady as they were both so kind and loving towards us. Annalee told us she had been up all night thinking of us and worrying about us and praying for us. 

Aunt Nana and Emerson (my younger sister)

Auntie Cha (my older sister) helping me get Emerson's headband on 

Grammy Duck (my mom) and Emerson

Papa (my dad) 

Ma (my mother-in-law)

Sandra (my midwife)

We change Emerson one more time, into the dress I bought her for her first trip to church. Frames of love takes more pictures. Family and friends are in out, each taking a turn to see and cuddle Emerson. Again, Emerson is everyone's baby and we want everyone who wants to have the chance to see her and love on her. Frames of love does more pictures. It's hit Matt now and he is having some hard moments. I comfort him as I can while others are loving on Emerson. 

The time frame is blurry again. At some point Frames of Love has finished. They ask to say a prayer with us. A few more visitors are in and out. I decide to take Emersons dress off and just swaddle her. I leave her headband in. Pam takes Roscoe home. My family has filtered out for now to give us some space. One of my very best friends, Emily and my boss (and also a dear friend) Lorna come in and support us and love on Emerson. 

Everyone has left. It's Matt, Emerson and me now. We are moved to a new room. Another shift change has taken place and we have another nurse. She is as great as all the rest of them have been. They have set up a special box for Emerson on the "baby cart". There is a card signed by my 3 nurses. There is a card with Emerson's footprints and hand-prints and the ink pads they used to get them. There is a grief journal. A pamphlet on a local grief support group. A mommy and daddy hospital bracelet and a baby hospital bracelet. A small plastic zippy bag with a lock of Emerson's hair. A few other mementos. Matt goes to the cafeteria and gets me a cheeseburger. My family comes back in for a bit to say goodnight and see Emerson one more time.  

Matt has some one on one time snuggling Emerson while I take a shower. Time feels like it's flying. The hospital did not put a limit on our time with Emerson but nature did. She was cold. Pale except in her cheeks which had turned purple. Like I said, nature did put a timeline on our time with her. Matt is exhausted. I tell him to go to bed, I wanted to snuggle Emerson just a little longer. I told him I would wake him up when I called the nurse to get Emerson. It was about 9pm. I was exhausted too but sleep didn't seem important at the moment. I kept thinking "Ok. Let them take her now. You need to go to bed now...". I finally decided I would cuddle Emerson until 11 and then I would request sleeping medicine and let them take Emerson. I spent those last 2 hours snuggling Emerson as close as I could. At 11pm, as much as I didn't want to do it, it was time to let Emerson go. I pushed the call button. I requested sleep medicine..."and someone to take my baby". The nurse came in. I laid Emerson down and took her headband and her blanket off. I wanted to keep them. I swaddled Emerson in a different blanket from the hospital, Matt and I each kissed her. I snuggled her close one more time and I handed our baby girl over to the nurse. We would never hold her again. We would never swaddle her, dress her, feed her, rock her...this is the last time we would see Emerson Paige Hill. I couldn't watch the nurse carry her out of her room so I buried my face in Matts chest and he wrapped his arms around me and we cried. The nurse came back and gave me sleeping medicine. I slept with the blanket she had been swaddled in.

Last picture of Emerson

July 29: I wake up at 7am. Shift change again. Another fabulous nurse. I am told we can be discharged when we are ready. I try to sleep a little more. Around 8:30 I call to be discharged. Since both of our vehicles have somehow both ended up at the hospital my sister and brother in law come so one of them can drive my car. There is paperwork to do. Instead of filling out a birth certificate we fill out a death certificate. Discharge takes a really long time.

Matt snapped this picture of Emersons blanket in my bed that morning when I was in the bathroom

About to leave the hospital

11:30ish am: Finally we are discharged. Matt leaves in his truck. My brother in law drives me home in my car and my sister follows us in their car. We stop at starbucks. Finally we get home. Matt says he wants me to see something. He takes me to our bedroom where the computer desk has been turned into a "memorial corner" for Emerson. Her mementos are on the desk. The memory box from the hospital. The outfits she wore. Her blanket. Flowers my sister in law had sent. On the wall there are 2 picture frames and a white sign with pink letters that says "Something tells me I'm going to love her forever". Sandra is here, my mom, Pam and my oldest sister with her 2 daughters. Roscoe runs up to me and hugs me. He lifts my shirt up to see my tummy. I tell him sister doesn't live there anymore and some tears are escaping my eyes. He swipes at my eyes, quietly babbles some sad baby talk and then folds his hands in front of him and looks at me sadly before wrapping his arms around my neck. My heart has just broken a little bit more. 

When we got home our fridge, freezer and cabinets were full of food and drinks. While we were in the hospital some of our dear friends had brought a large basket of snacks to our room and some more of our dear friends had got a house key from Matt and stocked our kitchen. The clean laundry I had left in the laundry room had been folded and neatly placed on our bed. We had a thick stack of cards that had all come in the mail while we were in the hospital. The love and generosity of those around us has been continuous and the comfort of every prayer has been felt.

Saturday July 30: My milk comes in. The engorgement is so painful. I'm wrapped up tight with cold cabbage leaves. I smell like coleslaw for the next 3 days as I try to make the milk disappear. I finally find relief from using olive oil with a few drops of peppermint oil. Physically that has been the most pain I have had from this whole experience. 

We picked up Emerson's ashes on Wednesday August 3, 2016. We transferred her ashes into her urn and also put some in the pouch inside the bear we ordered for her. 

Emerson's service was held Saturday August 6, 2016 at 2pm. We had it at the Cole Community Center in Canyon, TX. Sandra gifted us a memorial slide show done by someone she had used before. We picked 60 pictures and put them on a disk and picked a few songs that felt appropriate (Josh Groban: To Where You Are, Daughtry: Gone Too Soon and Gerrit Hofsink: Still). They did a beautiful job putting the pictures and songs together to tell Emerson's story. Three traveling ministers from our church came and had a part in Emerson's service. They spoke with perfect liberty and we were touched and comforted by each of their parts. A potluck was held afterward. We finally got home after 4. We were surrounded by beautiful flower arrangements sent to Emerson's service, sympathy cards, food and family. At close to 7 Matt and I were hitting exhaustion and the family left to give us space. The next day we went to church, had a potluck afterward and the last of our family left for home. We all slept that afternoon. 

Life has "resumed". Matt is back at work. I start back to work at the salon on August 23. I started my cleaning job back last week (I have 1 client I work for 1 day a week). We continue to feel the out pour of love and prayers sent to us. We are 3 1/2 weeks in since I delivered Emerson. Matt and I each have our moments and we let them come when they come. In a way it has been good to just "get back to it" and "keep on keeping on". I have had very fleeting thoughts of just punting on life for a bit but the thought of closing myself off and of not being truly present for Matt and Roscoe doesn't realistically sound appealing. I love my role as a mother and as a wife and carrying a burden of sorrow doesn't change that. I have been so grateful that I have been able to share Emerson with all of our friends and family from the time we announced her existence until the time she was born. Having the support of so many people on this journey has made it an easier journey to take. I have felt a lot of things in the past 3 1/2 weeks but I have never felt alone. We are still getting messages, calls and cards everyday.  Our Sunday church group had a tree planted in our yard in Emerson's memory. My cousin sent us a bonsai "a little tree to remember little Emerson". Another cousin sent us a customized sign. Matt's brother and his wife had a custom memory frame made. Matt's dad wrote a poem and put it in an engraved frame. Another church friend made us an embroidered pillow "for the days you need something to hold". The care has been endless. Emerson was (and is) loved by so many who never got to meet her.  

We miss Emerson. We miss her a lot. It feels like there is just something missing. We have been preparing and planning and prepping for Emerson's arrival all year. We have pumped ourselves up to take on 2 kids under 2. Matt endured 30+ weeks of whining and complaining about how much pregnancy did not agree with me. I carried Emerson for 35 weeks and moaned and groaned about my pregnancy misery. I loved her though. I still love her. I wasn't enjoying pregnancy but Emerson Paige was (and is) very loved and very wanted. Matt was excited to have his "daddy's little girl" and know that special bond between a father and his daughter. I was excited to add a little girl to our family and watch Emerson and Roscoe bond in a way only siblings can. There are a lot of human emotions to sort through. We have a strong faith and we find comfort in the Lord. We are still human and our human hearts hurt because our human selves really wanted Emerson to be earth side with us. I am thankful we don't have to rely on our human selves to take this journey. 

I do not regret any of my decisions during my pregnancy. I do not regret choosing Sandra as our health care provider. I do not believe there is anything more Matt, Sandra, the MFM or I could have done to prevent this. I am at peace that we did everything we were "supposed" to do and that we made sound decisions and our medical providers did their jobs perfectly. I do not regret declining the tests we declined or having the tests we had. I have no regrets about the time we spent with Emerson after she was born or any of the decisions we made concerning her birth, her cremation or her service. 

Our families, our friends and my adopted family and friend (and midwife) have checked on us regularly. Our Father has heard and answered every cry for us. We are comforted and we are thankful for that. I know we will continue to cry to Him and he will continue to answer as we keep going forward in our "Emerson Paige" journey.