Kate's birthday, part 2

You can read part 1 of Kate's birth story here.

The clock rolled around to 7:15 and I had gone back into our bedroom to work through some contractions when I heard a knock at the door. The contractions were really big - sharp and tight and swelling, coming on with immediate power that seized me entirely until they peaked and began to subside into a cramp-like feeling. Eric answered the door and Stephanie, my midwife, walked in. I could hear them talking, but happened to be in the middle of a strong contraction, so I stayed in my "zone" until it finished. By the time it had finished, I could hear that Crystal (Stephanie's student midwife) had also arrived. I walked out into the living room to greet them and Stephanie gave me a hug, as she does each time we have a visit, with an extra squeeze of excitement, happiness, reassurance, and all other good "you're having a baby!" type vibes. I was truly led by the Lord to find Stephanie and it was so good in that moment to have her there. I felt completely confident and safe in her hands. I knew she had all the skills and knowledge to help me as needed and I also knew that we shared very similar views about childbirth and that she would respect and support me and keep Kate and me safe.

We all exchanged some excited chatter about how things had been going. They asked a few questions,

"How are contractions going?" 2-3 mins apart, about 1 minute long.

"Any fever?" Nope.

"Water hasn't broken, right?" Right. And I've had bloody show.

I had to pause for another contraction - that was the last one we have on the contraction timer - at about 7:30 p.m.

Then I said something like, "Yeah, I'll be really excited to hear her heartbeat. She's been pretty quiet, but I don't know if I've just been too caught up in the contractions to notice."

Stephanie replied, "Well, let's have a listen!"

Crystal started to do an initial assessment and I sat down at the table so she could take my blood pressure. It was great, as it always is. Everything was going as normal. Then she got out the doppler to check on Kate and told me she'd take an initial listen and then try and catch her again as soon as I had a contraction, so we could hear Kate'e heartbeat through a contraction and see how she was doing. I sat still, waiting to hear that beautiful woosh woosh, so that I could exhale. At every single check-up throughout pregnancy, I was always a little nervous until I heard the heartbeat. I'm such a worry wart and a bit of a masochist to boot. So that's how life goes. Crystal didn't immediately find the heartbeat and shifted the doppler on my belly to keep looking. That's ok, I thought to myself. They have to do that in my appointments sometime, too. Sometimes, it just take a second to find. Stephanie was sitting on the couch nearby and said to Eric,

"You know, dads tell me the worst part for them isn't labor or pushing or anything, it's waiting for us to find the heartbeat. They hate that part. Sometimes it just takes a minute to find because things are shifting around during labor."

Crystal still wasn't finding a heartbeat - just the static crackling every so often. My heart started beating faster.

"Would it help if I changed positions? Should I lay down?" Crystal and Stephanie said yes. I immediately slipped off the chair and laid down on the rug near the table. I wanted to get into a better position and hear this heartbeat as soon as possible. So silly - I should have just started laying down, so we wouldn't be worrying like this. Crystal listened again for a minute or two, moving the doppler all over my belly. Still, it was silent. Stephanie came over and took the doppler from Crystal to listen. She moved it around and there was more silence. My heart was about to thump out of my chest.

Stephanie looked up at me and said quietly, but intensely, "It shouldn't be taking me this long to find your baby's heartbeat." I nodded and was thinking, This can't be happening. Not after everything we've been through. Is this really happening? 

"We need to go to the hospital and get a scan to see what's going on and what we need to do - if we need to finish up there. We'll just have to see."

No, this can not be happening! All of these months of planning and hoping and preparing and dreaming were crashing down around me.

I started to get up from the floor and Stephanie chimed in, "Best case scenario, we'll come back here and have the baby and things can continue as planned. But we need to go take a look." That gave me an odd ray of hope. Although something in me knew that probably wasn't going to be the case - and certainly that it didn't matter if Kate could just be ok- it gave me a little bit of hope to cling to that helped me get off the floor and make the drive to the hospital. In the shock of the moment, I was glad for a little bit of denial to hide behind: Yes, it's just some weird fluke. We can come back here and carry on as planned. Kate is just fine.

I got up and we briefly decided which hospital to go to. Stephanie told us to go ahead and she'd make a phone call to let them know we were coming and they'd gather my chart and a few things and meet us there in a few minutes. Eric had kicked into that all-too-familiar "handling an emergency and rushing off to the hospital" mode - quick moving, super alert, adrenaline pumping. We grabbed shoes and my purse and headed for the door.

Stephanie stopped him, "This is not an emergency. Please drive safely."

What Stephanie had meant was: It's not an emergency - there's nothing anyone can do. She's gone." In my head though, I clung to that statement as further fuel for my self-protecting denial, "See, it's not an emergency. We should hurry and get this taken care of, but Kate is fine." 

Things kind of blurred for a moment after that. We walked out the door - light on, rain tracks still playing away - I'm not even sure if we left keys for Stephanie and Crystal to lock up with. We walked out to the car and passed a man standing by a car who gave us a sympathetic look and quick nod. I think that's Stephanie's husband. Why is he out here? Was he just going to wait for her out here until the baby was born? Nevermind, I don't care. I can't think about this right now. Let's just get to the hospital. We drove around the building towards the exit and talked about the fastest route to take to the hospital. Ironic how life works, I thought to myself. This is the hospital I came to for blood work after my miscarriage, so I know where it is. Boy, I hate this hospital.

Eric and I talked nervously as we drove towards the highway. The last bit of sunset was just visible as we headed west and since it was Sunday night, the roads were quieter than usual. We talked about ways it could still be ok. I told him how I really, really didn't want a c-section. But I didn't care if Kate would be ok. We talked about how great Stephanie is - that she knows and readily admits when something is outside her scope. We sat silently for a minute and then I gave voice to something I'd been feeling for months. It was something I'd been pushing down and trying to shrug off as paranoid worrying rather than communication from the Spirit. It had been strongly impressed upon me again the night before in the temple and now that this was happening, there was no denying it any longer:

"I'm actually not surprised this is happening." I hesitatingly began. "The Lord told me last night in the temple that Kate wasn't going to live." The air burst out in a large exhale after those words. "I think He's been trying to tell me for several months now. I just didn't want to believe it."

We missed the exit for the hospital and had to back track a bit, but finally located the labor and delivery wing and found a parking spot near the front labeled, "For Laboring Moms".

"That's me for now. Take the spot!" I said through a contraction. I didn't want to have to drive over anymore speed bumps. Speed bumps + sitting still in a car + contractions = no bueno. We walked through the sliding doors and looked around. There was no one in the lobby, but a phone hanging on the wall by a set of double doors. We were buzzed into what was apparently labor and delivery triage and a nurse at the front desk asked how she could help us.

"I'm in labor and we're here for an ultrasound. My midwife called ahead."

The nurse gave us a form to fill out and said she'd call the doctor and it would be a minute. We waited in the hallway for a few minutes and I had a nervous, sick feeling in my stomach the whole time. And coupled with my dread and worry about the situation was an overwhelming load of disappointment. Oh, how I didn't want to be here! This is not how it's supposed to be! Stupid hospital!

(And a sidenote here: Obviously, we would have done anything to save Kate if there was something we could have done. But there was nothing anyone could have done. My primary grief is for Kate's death and that we don't get to have her here with us now. But apart from all that, there is a small sliver of very real grief for the birth experience that didn't go as planned. And that's ok, too. When my midwife wrote up her version of Kate's birth story she said something about that that I just loved - I really appreciate that she "gets it". She said: "For someone who hasn’t been there they might not understand, might think it’s shallow to care about the birth experience when the baby has already died…..but it isn’t. It doesn’t make the baby less important…it means that they don’t have more disappointment piled on top of the tragedy." So that's why I talk about those things.)

We were directed towards a room just to the right of the front desk and I was directed to change into a (nasty) hospital gown and lay down in the bed. The doctor came in and shook hands.

"Hi, I'm Dr. V. What's going on today?"

"I've been in labor. We're having a home birth, everything's been going well, my midwives arrived and couldn't find a heartbeat, so they said we should come in for an ultrasound."

"Ok, well, let's take a look," he said as he turned towards the ultrasound machine. Stephanie and Crystal walked in and sat down. The room was completely silent as the doctor moved the transducer around my belly. And, just like in the ultrasound during my miscarriage, I was the only person in the room that couldn't see the screen. Seriously lame set up. I breathed through a few contractions silently and looked back and forth between the doctor's face, the ceiling, and Eric's face. Any minute, I was sure the doctor would speak up and say, "There's a problem of some sort, but she's still here and we can save her. It'll just require a little shifting of plans." Any second now... I scanned the faces in the room again to try and get some information and caught sight of Stephanie crying and mouthing, "I'm sorry" to Eric. Why was she doing that? Ok, what's the game plan guys? What do we need to do next? For some reason, I was still shielding myself with denial and clinging to hope that there could be a happy ending.

Eric nodded at Stephanie and started to turn towards me, the only one in the room still in the dark about the reality of the situation. He touched my arm and I smiled up encouragingly at him, thinking, We got this, babe! It'll be ok. But then I saw the look on his face and my wall of denial came tumbling down. I nodded acceptance of what he was communicating and yet it all seemed like something in a dream - so sickeningly like the ultrasound after I had miscarried except a thousand times worse. Was I understanding this right? Surely they weren't actually trying to say that she had really died. I was in labor - she was about to be born! This can't actually be happening. I looked over at Stephanie and she again mouthed, "I'm sorry."

Finally, the doctor turned towards Eric and I and spoke up, his voice tinged with emotion. He was very kind and gentle and extremely reluctant as he explained that our baby had passed away. He mentioned a few options for how to proceed - stay in the hospital and deliver, go home and sleep and come back in the morning to have her or go home and give birth as planned. I asked if he was absolutely sure that she was gone - if there was any chance. I didn't want to make any decisions if there was some shred of possibility that he could be wrong. Stephanie and the doctor both spoke up to reassure me that she was, quite certainly, gone. The doctor showed me the screen and pointed out her silent heart, still umbilical cord, and lifeless body. Reality started to sink in on me. Not in a crushing way, but sadly and quietly. I did my all-too-familiar "hold in the tears and smile and say the minimum that needs to be said for the doctor to leave the room, so I can lose it" routine. Stephanie and Crystal told us they would be there to support us in anything we chose and everyone left the room, so that Eric and I could discuss what we wanted to do.

We hugged each other and cried for several minutes. We threw back and forth a few options and then sat quietly thinking and crying. I had a brief moment where I considered staying in the hospital and getting an epidural - if my baby is dead and I still have to do this, maybe I should just take drugs and forget about it. This situation stinks! But that thought left about as quickly as it came - no, I don't want that at all. I can do this and I'm going to do this. Kate is gone, but I still have a job to do and my body can do it just like it was always going to. After a minute or two longer, I knew what I wanted to do,

"I want to go home. I want to be alone and comfortable in our home and have Kate. This can still be a beautiful, peaceful experience. I don't want to be here in this hospital."

Eric nodded and then began to cry again, "I just don't want you to have to do this. I don't want you to be in pain."

I nodded and we sat silently for another minute. All of a sudden a wonderful thought came into my mind, filling me with light and peace and purpose. I hugged Eric and looked him in the eyes. "It's ok, babe. You know what? I just had this really strong impression: Kate still needs her body. She came here to get a body and she needs that body to finish coming to earth. I still have an important job to finish up. It'll be ok." In all of my studying about the gospel and womanhood and childbirth and our eternal, sacred roles I had learned and felt this powerful truth before. The Lord reminded me of it in such a tender, beautiful way at that moment. In that split second, I had a powerful spiritual impression about the breadth of Kate's purpose and the meaning of her short life. It gave me strength and resolve and a measure of peace about what laid ahead.

We started to gather our things to leave. I walked over to get my clothes when all of a sudden a contraction hit in earnest. It was like someone had pressed the mute button since we'd walked inside the hospital and now that we had decided a new course of action we felt comfortable with, everything unmuted. It absolutely amazes and fascinates me how our amazing bodies work - my body turned down the laboring dial when it didn't feel safe and comfortable. (Ah, it's soooo cool!) The contraction had enough force and immediate sharpness that I leaned over a counter to work through it. When it finished, I told Eric they were picking up again and told him to forget about changing clothes, we needed to get out of there! He opened the door to tell Stephanie and Crystal our plans and ask the nurses for whatever we needed to leave. Not long after the previous contraction ended, another one hit. And ow! Did it hurt! I leaned up against the wall to brace myself. It was a sharp, pointed pain that seemed to shoot up through my legs, coursing past my cervix, and up my uterus. And just as I registered the different, pointed nature of that contraction water started gushing out.

"Eric, my water's breaking!" I gasped out. He turned around to look and then relayed it to Stephanie. Water kept streaming out. And I started giggling. It is the oddest sensation in the world. I don't think I'll ever get over it even if I have 100 babies.

"We need to hurry," I said quickly when I moved away from the wall. From there on out, the contractions were clipped and remained pointed and painful like inside parts of me were tearing or something. It was no longer that rising and falling crampy feeling. It was all sharp pain. Post water breaking contractions- to a tee. I went deeper inside myself and my replies got shorter and more focused - my head felt somewhat detached from my body. I had one goal and one goal only - get home as fast as humanly possible. We walked back down the hallway towards the L&D triage exit. We had just about reached the lobby when a registration clerk called out to us to wait. All of my focus was on navigating the contractions, so with that detached feeling, I leaned against the door frame half in the lobby. Somewhere in the background I sort of registered the registration clerk whining about how they didn't have any information for us, that we hadn't checked in. Eric told them we just did an ultrasound and that I was about to have a baby and that we needed to go. The clerk protested some more. Eric had one hand holding my bag and one hand on my back, he let go of me and fished our insurance card out to throw at her. While the clerk went to photocopy the card, Stephanie stood on the lobby side of me and spoke reassuring things in my ear. Where is that darn clerk? This is taking forever! I thought. All of a sudden, a new sensation hit me: a huge wave of nausea washed over me. I was going to throw up NOW! I was fighting pretty constant discomfort and nausea simultaneously. I looked around the room helplessly, but all I saw was a tiny (like really minuscule) excuse for a trash can behind the guard's desk in the lobby.

"I'm going to throw up," I said desperately. Someone grabbed the trash can and held it up to me. The nauseous feeling ebbed slightly and out of nowhere I started shaking uncontrollably all over. A lightswitch went off in my brain - transition!! Crazy, different contractions, nausea, and shakiness - just like a million birth stories I had read. This was it! I'd never felt all of this before! I was excited, awestruck, nervous, and hurting like a banshee all at the same time.

A powerful contraction gripped me. And that's about all the words I have for it. Truly. It was like nothing I've ever felt before. It was total body. It ripped through me and wrung me out and pressed on me with the weight of several hundred tons all at once. I heard myself start moaning. I leaned into the door frame and held on for dear life. My body was pushing!

I looked over at Stephanie, "I'm pushing!" Uh-oh, this meant we were out of time. I was a little worried, disappointed, nervous, and also awe-struck. It really was like people described it. Your body does just start pushing. Incredible! It was all my body. I was just along for the ride.

Me and my half-on hospital gown self moaning in full blown the-baby-is-coming labor right there in the lobby. And I didn't care one bit. Childbirth is fascinating that way. I honestly couldn't have cared less. But I'm sure it was a funny and maybe slightly terrifying sight for anyone in the vicinity. :) I looked over at Stephanie, "I want to lay down. The baby is coming." I wish I had words to convey how I sounded to myself. Because it was surprising to me. Normally, I am not very assertive in my conversations and I tend to be pretty soft spoken when it comes to speaking up for preferences or asking for things. But in this slightly out-of-my-head, focused mode, I was being extremely direct. No pandering or dancing around the subject or suggesting things. Just short, blunt commands. It still amazes me and cracks me up to think back on how I felt.

Stephanie replied, "Ok, do you want to lay down here or lay down in the car?" She was gently reminding me of my intention.

"I want to lay down now." I felt like a whiny toddler. My legs felt so weak. I was shaking all over and nothing sounded more delightful than getting off my feet. (Except now, in retrospect, floating in a warm birth tub during pushing sounds A-MAZ-ING!)

"Ok, but do you want to go lay down in the car and head home?"

"No, I don't care - I just need to lay down right now." I moaned.

When the contraction eased a bit, we turned around and headed back into triage in search of a bed. I walked down the hallway clinging on to Eric from behind. Stephanie stayed by my side and talked to me gently, but firmly as we walked. I don't know where they were trying to take us - somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard someone say something about it being a long walk and needing to get me quite a ways down the hallway. All I could think was, Yeah, right lady! The first bed I see, I am on it and you just try to stop me. I will be horizontal soon one way or another! A nurse that was walking with us down the hallway kept asking me if I wanted to sit in a wheelchair. Uh, no, sitting sounds like torture right about now!

"No, I want to walk." I clipped out breathy and impatient.

When we got about to the triage room we where they'd done the ultrasound, another big push came. I stopped and braced against Eric, "I'm sorry.... I'm sorry.... I'm puuuuuushing." I moaned shakily. All of my muscles were shaking- they were working so hard. I wanted to lay down. Apparently something about that moment communicated what was happening to the hospital staff and they stopped all their silly plans to have me walk a mile to a room and turned me into the room we'd done the ultrasound in and helped me lay down on the bed. Blessed relief! Very brief relief, but I'd take it! I was so far drawn inward that I felt only half conscious.  I don't know if this is the best way to do the final stage of labor, but to me it felt like: buckle up and hold on! My body was doing it's thing and I tried my hardest to breathe and focus and to just live through each intense wave. They wheeled the bed over to the regular labor and delivery side and into the first room they came to. I was laying on my left side - I've always been a side-lier. It is a comforting position. Eric sat next to my head to comfort and tend to anything I might need. And Stephanie was at my feet watching and waiting. My body pushed again and Stephanie said, "Good job - I saw her head. You're almost done." Good! I just want to be done. This is taking everything I have and I don't know if I can keep doing it! Stephanie tells me I was calm, but in my head it felt like a storm was raging.

I blurrily registered nurses moving around in the background and then the same doctor from before, Dr. V. walked in the room. At the time I didn't know it, but Stephanie told me later that he told her he respected our relationship and motioned for her to continue her role as my midwife. That is pretty incredible. I will be forever grateful for his respect and sensitivity.

It must be recorded, though, that Dr. V did walk up to me and started to glove up and turn on lights above me to "check my progress". :) One thing I love about Stephanie is that both she and I are on the same page about the absolute unnecessity and potential harm of cervical checks during pregnancy and labor. And at this point, when I knew and Stephanie knew that I was fully dilated and pushing (for Pete's sake!) and minutes away from having a baby earthside, the thought of him "checking" me for progress was downright laughable. Plus, he was invading my sacred laboring space with those darn lights!

I surfaced long enough to say briskly, "I don't want those lights on." (Again, who was that?! Certainly not me! I'm never that direct! Sheesh - labor!)

Dr. V started to explain that he was going to "check" me to "see where things were at"  and I spoke up some more:

"Don't touch me!"

I think Stephanie started to tell him that she had seen Kate's head and went off with some other medical lingo about stations or something. Being the good-natured soul that he was, Dr. V accepted that and the lights were flipped off and he walked away.

A few more pushes came and the doctors and nurses had faded into the background, they were standing silently against the back wall. Although I have some big issues with the hospital, in general, that I was at and how they are handling things, I just don't have enough good things to say about Dr. V and the nursing staff that night. They were so incredibly sensitive and flexible. Truly care-giving and not just protocol zombies. They understood that Stephanie was my dear and trusted midwife, I was her client, and that I wanted a home birth, but things outside of my control had landed me in their bed and I didn't want to be there. Huge props and many, many thanks to them.

It was just me and Eric and Stephanie. Inside of me, I felt out of control, but in the room it was peaceful and dim. Just the sound of me moaning quietly when a push came and Stephanie giving me feedback, "Nice, easy push..... perfect."

"Tell me when you feel a burning sensation."

"Relax."

A few moments later came a big push and lots of burning, "Fire!" I gasped out.

"That's alright. Okay, relax. Remember your breathing." I had tensed up and squeezed everything together. Stephanie talked me though that, so I could loosen up enough to not fight against the push and let Kate come out.

Kate's head was out! "Her head is out. I see her face. She's beautiful!" Stephanie said. "That's just me - I'm wiping off her head. That's me touching your baby."

I felt extremely uncomfortable with three quarters of a baby inside me and just a little bit out. The burning had stopped, but it still was painful. It was oddly quiet as we waited for another push to come. No baby cries or bustling about. But it was peaceful. One more push and Kate slipped all the way out and into Stephanie's capable, loving hands. And oh, the relief!! Before when we were "planning" Kate's birth, Eric and I weren't sure if he'd catch her or Stephanie would - we didn't really have strong feelings about it and said we'd just wait and see how things were going. But in that moment, everything happened perfectly. Eric by my side and Stephanie catching our baby. Kate was born in peace and sacredness. The spirit was so strong.

Stephanie immediately lifted Kate up to me, "Here she is!"

I was caught between a sob and a smile as I reached for her, and I choked out in simultaneous wonder and sadness, "Oh! Beautiful girl!..... Perfect baby." And she was - absolutely lovely and perfect in every way. Chubby all over, full cheeks and lips like her sisters, a head full of dark hair and just beautiful. This little girl I had loved and anticipated for so long. She looked like she was sleeping - her eyes were closed and she was so very peaceful. It is just near impossible to communicate - how things were that night. She was very obviously recently gone. She had so much life to her still when she came out - it was such a blessing. And the spirit in the room as we held her and got to meet her was just amazing. It is one of the most tender, special, indescribable experiences I've ever had.

As I look at these pictures.... ah! I wish everyone could just understand what it was like that night. It was such a gift. The difference between these pictures from the night she was born and the pictures from even the next morning is amazing. Although she was gone when she was born, she was so present with us. I believe her spirit was close by us in those moments. It really was such a sacred experience. Beyond words.

Look at those pouty little lips!!! Melts my heart. She looks just like Elena and Lily did as babies. I have a tender spot for those little lips and full cheeks. They are just delightful.

Stephanie asked if I wanted to hold her skin to skin and I was very eager to. I'm so glad she thought of it. We got to do that for a while and it was very special. 

This is the other sight that melts my heart - Eric with his babies.

Perfect fingers and all that glorious chub. :)

Stephanie and Kate

Crystal and Kate

Kate Nicole Hoffman

Well, what else is there to say? We arrived at the hospital at 7:50 pm. I'm not sure at what point we finished the ultrasound, but Kate was born at 8:55 pm. It was a whirlwind! I think it was around 10 hours total of labor, but the whole transition/pushing phase went by in a blink. Crazy! And I just have to shout out - I freaking did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had my beautiful, natural childbirth and I did it! I remain so proud of that. And so grateful to the Lord for the beautiful gift I was given at being able to have that birth experience. Many times that night and throughout the succeeding days, I was overcome with what a tender blessing it was that even though one of our worst nightmares came true, that I was still able to have such a beautiful birthing experience that I could rejoice in. God is good. I had hoped and dreamed and planned and prepared for so long and I actually did it. It was incredibly difficult at times, but mostly beautiful and amazing. I came out of it feeling so stoked and proud and pumped and empowered. It still amazes me - I did that. And as Stephanie says: I got my home birth - we just had to borrow a bed from the hospital at the end. It's true. It was a beautiful experience - peaceful and cozy and intimate just like I imagined.

We spent about two hours holding and loving on Kate. We opened her eyes and she had delightful blue eyes with just a tinge of brown around them. Her hair was considerably darker and there was more of it than with Elena or Lily. I wonder what color her eyes would have turned out like - piercing blue like Elena's or blue that faded to brownish-grey like Lily's? She definitely had the same cheeks and lips as Elena and Lily. And she had very long toes and fingers. The pictures don't do them justice! And mostly, she was just incredibly perfect. Upon examination, there was nothing wrong with her, her cord, her placenta, anything. I'm going to steal Stephanie's words again because I'm running out of my own: 

"There was no reason Kate died. That’s the hardest part for most people to accept – there must be a reason, an explanation. No, the cord wasn’t wrapped around her neck, no there was no traumatic event, no there was nothing wrong with her. She was perfect. The only way that I’ve been able to get someone to understand and accept the circumstance of her death is this – it was SIDS, just before birth. There was nothing anyone did to cause it, and there was nothing anyone could have done to prevented it.

That thought is terrifying to a lot of parents – but so is SIDS. This is why we must appreciate and love and cherish our children each moment they are in our lives!!"

Eric and I have both strongly felt that there was absolutely nothing we did to cause Kate's death and there was nothing we could have done to prevent it. Like, we've had incredibly strong spiritual promptings about that. It was simply not the Lord's plan for her to live a long life on earth with us. We feel that strongly. He knows us, He knows Kate, and He had a plan for her all along. It has been difficult because that plan was different than ours. But we are working on listening to His whisperings and trusting Him. It actually amazes me to think about the promptings the Lord gave me about Kate's destiny throughout my pregnancy. To think that He was so intimately involved in my life! It's amazing to me. And that He loves me so tenderly, that among the billions upon billions of children He has, He took the time to strive with me and teach me and prepare me. So tender and incredible. Since Kate was born, we have had some pretty amazing spiritual experiences about Kate and what she is doing now. We are so grateful for the sealing ordinances of the temple and for eternal families. It is such a comfort to us. We know we will see her again and we will be able to raise her as our daughter. How I long for that day when my family is all together again.

When we were ready to go, we handed Kate to one of the kind nurses who said fervently,  "We will take good care of her for you." We completed the discharge paperwork and were on our way quickly with an invitation to come back in the morning with Elena and Lily and to spend as much time as we wanted with Kate. I mostly felt exhausted and drained and numb as we left. It was excruciating to leave without Kate. I was also so tired and ached to take a shower and be in my own home.

Stephanie and Crystal followed us home to help with clean-up. (They are amazing!) I escaped to the shower where I sat on the floor and sobbed and dealt with after-pains. And Eric, Stephanie, and Crystal deflated the birth tub, put away the food, and hid other birth supplies we had out. Stephanie and Crystal said goodbye and Stephanie left with a promise to come back the next day with a rhogam shot, if it was needed. Eric and I went to bed soon after. We laid there fruitlessly wide awake in the dark for a half hour or so until I spoke up,

"I can't sleep. Can you?"

"No."

"My thoughts aren't going anywhere pretty. Do you want to go turn on a movie?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

So, he made me a chux bed on the couch and laid out blankets on the floor for himself and we turned on Cool Runnings. It was nice to have something light-hearted to check out with. I think we both desperately needed the distraction to fuel a protective layer of denial. Around 2am, and just before the end of the movie, I finally drifted off. But I was up again at about 5 am with after-pains and an aching heart. So, I grabbed a few ibuprofen and restarted the movie. Eric woke up soon after and we half watched and half talked until Kristi brought Elena and Lily back over for us to break the news to. More on that in another post.

It's six months since our beautiful Kate was born. Things are slowly progressing. I know we are climbing up and out of it. I was frustrated with myself for a long time about the way I felt or not being able to "get over it". But I've learned that I won't ever get over it. And that's ok. How could we expect to get over the life and death of one of our children? We will find balance again and continue on with life - with hope and faith and continued striving to live worthy to be together again.

Happy Birthday Kate. We are so glad you are ours.