Gideon's Story

People handle grief in funny ways.  Some bottle it up.  Others, like myself, are grief spewers.  They have to get it out or it will fester.  This is how I feel.  For the second time in my life, my world has stopped while everyone else's is moving forward.  The first time was July 23, 2003 when I lost my father to pancreatic cancer.  And this second time, November 20, 2012, was when I delivered my son, Gideon, whose heart had stopped beating at 18 weeks.  This is the story of that moment.  I just need to get it all out, to heal, to share, to move forward as much as possible.  I will preface this by saying that there are pictures of our sweet boy at the end of this blog post.  If it will bother you to see him, please don't scroll down.


On August 12th, I saw my first positive pregnancy test in 7 years.  My story of infertility and subsequent adoption of our perfect daughter is a separate one.  We had basically stopped trying.  Well, I'm not sure if after years of infertility you ever stop hoping, but we were no longer actively trying to get pregnant.  So, it came as a shock that we got pregnant naturally on our own.  I will be honest and say I was instantly terrified that I would lose the pregnancy in early miscarriage.  Once we got to 10 weeks and had an ultrasound that showed a perfect baby with a strong heartbeat, we announced our pregnancy and were overwhelmed with how excited everyone was for us.  Everyone knew how long we had awaited this precious baby.  The reactions of our friends and family are ones I will forever cherish.  As the weeks went on, my belly started to grow and I started to feel little thumps and kicks. We started to make lists of boy and girls names that we liked. Those were some of the most joyful times.  I feel so blessed to have that time of pregnancy.  

On November 19th, I was 18 weeks pregnant.  We thought it would be fun to go to the elective ultrasound place and get an early ultrasound to see if our baby was a boy or a girl before Thanksgiving. My mother was with us, and our kids.  As we were driving there, I told my husband that I felt oddly numb, neither nervous nor excited.  I had no real instinct as to whether the baby was a boy or a girl. I think even then, God was preparing my heart for what was to come.
I laid on the table as the tech started the ultrasound.  She started trying to measure the baby and said the baby was lying in an odd position and she was having a hard time getting a clear picture.  After a few minutes, I asked her if she saw a heartbeat or any movement, because up to that point, I had not.  She told me honestly that she was getting nervous.  She had me shift positions a few times.  Eventually, she did a close up on the heart, showed me the four valves, and that the heart was still.  There was no heartbeat.  I felt instantly...numb.  Just numb.  I didn't cry, even as my mom and husband started to.  The tech left the room to call my OB.  I spent those next few minutes just numb.  I couldn't think or breathe, beyond just feeling like I knew something was wrong, and my instincts had been correct.  My precious baby was gone and I had no idea what would happen next.  
I did not start to cry until I had to explain to my sweet son that something had happened to the baby and the baby had gone to Heaven.  His reaction was so sweet, and that is when I lost it.  I tried to stay strong in front of him, because he is such a sensitive kid and gets very anxious when I'm upset or not feeling well.  
Honestly, I did not know what to do.  I had this irrational fear that the baby was going to come before I was in the hospital.  I felt paralyzed.  My mom loaded up the kids and decided to take them home.  My husband and I left the ultrasound place and started to head back towards town, and my OB called.  She asked me to come straight to labor and delivery and she would meet me there.  I began to text message a few friends and church staff to let them know what was going on and to ask them to pray for us, for our strength as we were about to endure something I never, ever thought we would have to endure.  I gripped my husband's hand and cried tears of grief and sadness over my baby.

When we checked into labor and delivery, the nurse that checked us in told us how sorry she was.  That was when it really hit me, what we were about to go through.  It started to feel real.  My baby had died, and I was going to have to get him out somehow.  I was terrified.  I was scared it would hurt.  I was scared to see him.
Dr. Householder came in and did an ultrasound just to confirm, and to talk me through what was going to happen.  I will never forget how kind Dr. Householder and the nurses were.  I have read stories of stillbirths and some women have terrible experiences with insensitive OBs and nurses, and I had just the opposite.  Everyone, even the food staff, went above and beyond to show me respect and kindness.  
They began by inserting Cervadil to help my cervix soften and dilate.  She explained that since the baby was so small, my cervix did not have to dilate all the way, and Pitocin would not be needed.  She did strongly suggest getting an epidural though, just because there would be labor pain and she didn't think I should go through it.  I agreed.  They had to insert an IV and draw blood first, which was terrible.  My veins tend to roll and it took the nurse four tries in different places to get the IV inserted.  That was when my anxiety started to get really high.  I began to tremble and couldn't stop.  I was already beginning to feel crampy from the Cervadil, and I couldn't relax my body enough to deal with the pain.  The nurse came in and asked if I would like Stadol until it was time for my epidural (they had to get a certain amount of IV fluids in, and check my platelets level.)  I agreed, and she gave me some.  I felt very relaxed for about 30 minutes and then it wore off, and once again I was scared, sad and hurting.  Finally, it was time for my epidural.  It was over quickly, and they gave me even more medicine for anxiety, and this time I was finally able to relax and rest.  They gave me a button to push that could bolas out the epidural medicine as needed.  
I slept off and on.  Occasionally, the cramping would wake me up.  Around 3:30 in the morning, I woke up and realized I felt a sticky wetness.  I woke up my husband and he went and got the nurse.  She checked me and decided it was time to call my OB in, because my water had broken.  
I think at this point I should mention that my doctor was not on call, but she stayed at the hospital anyway.  This touches my heart so much.  I am so grateful to her for this.  She calmly sat on the edge of the bed and had me push a few times, and my son was born.  Up to this point, we did not know he was a boy.  She looked him over and she was able to tell right away that the reason he died was because of a very tight twist in his umbilical cord, right where it met the abdomen.  This is called torsion of the umbilical cord.  It is in the family of umbilical cord accidents, which is not talked about very much.  I am still doing research in this area, and honestly it is sort of hard to find answers on whether I could have done anything to prevent it (probably not) or the chances of it occurring again.  
She asked if I wanted to see him.  She said he looked normal and thought I should hold him.  So I did.  I was shocked by how small he was.  His coloring was different than I thought it would be.  She warned me his skin was translucent, but it still surprised me.  His features were perfect.  His sweet little nose reminded me of Will's when he was born, which makes my heart hurt even now.  As soon as I saw him, my first thought was "this is my tiny warrior", which then prompted me to ask my husband if he liked the name Gideon.  He did, and we agreed that Gideon was the perfect name for our sweet little boy, now God's warrior in Heaven.  
I delivered the placenta soon after and there was some trouble there, getting it all out in one piece.  She did feel like she got it all, but I am still nervous, I will admit.  If there are any pieces left, my body will not realize the pregnancy is over and my hormone levels will be slower to return to normal.  Which means, my healing will be even slower and it will be that much longer until we can try to get pregnant again.  

I felt relieved that it was over.  I had so much anxiety over the delivery and seeing my son, and it all turned out to be so much more peaceful that I had anticipated.  My amazing, wonderful friend Jessica, who is also an extremely talented photographer, offered to come and take pictures of Gideon for us.  I treasure those pictures so much, and find myself looking at them over and over.  

I slept a few more hours and then got up and took a shower.  I was so ready to go home to my kids.  Our pastor came and prayed with us, and then completely took over the arrangements for Gideon's burial.  Up to that point, we really couldn't decide what to do with his body.  All I knew is having him cremated and letting the hospital deal with it did not feel right.  He generously offered that the church take care of his burial and funeral arrangements.  We are so blessed by our church family in so many ways, and the way they extravagantly love is...just, well....there are no words for it, except that they show the love of Christ in so many different ways.  We feel so loved and cared for.   

It is now five days later.  We made it through Thanksgiving.  We made it through his sweet funeral.  I am trying to take things moment by moment and letting myself experience all the emotions that come with the grief of losing a child.  My physical healing has been difficult.  My milk came in, leaving me swollen and tender...and feeling the let down sensation over and over is extremely hard.  Almost every time I think of Gideon, I feel the let down sensation.  My stomach returned to normal, and I'm already down 9 pounds, but I find myself grieving the loss of my rounding belly.  I feel phantom kicks, which is normal after a stillbirth, but so, so painful.  I miss feeling those wiggles and knowing it was my baby.  

Emotionally, I am starting to level out.  I pray constantly for healing and strength.  I pray that even in this horrible time that I glorify and trust in God.  All I want is to shine His light, even in my darkness.  And He is answering those prayers!  I don't understand why Gideon is gone.  I will NEVER understand.  Sometimes I get angry, and ask God why He wouldn't let Gideon stay with us.  Did I not deserve to be his mother?  Why did He need him more than me??  But, God has given me comfort.  I feel protected.  He has given me amazing family and friends.  My husband and I are closer than we have ever been.  Our mutual grief over our son has united us.  My comfort is that Gideon had a mission.  He completed it and got to go home to Jesus.  He was warm and safe and cozy for a few sweet weeks, and then woke up in Heaven with Jesus.  My father gets to meet a grandchild for the first time.  One day, I will be with him again and until then, I will focus on my family and spreading God's love as far as I can.  

I'm going to add some pictures.  One will be of Gideon, so if that will bother you, please do not look.