The Closing of 2014 - Not What I Expected

I have been contemplating lately what I should say in a public setting about my thoughts and feelings lately. What is appropriate to post on Facebook, what is appropriate to say here. What should I hold back, what should I share. Some things I want to say but worry that others will be put off by negativity. But I've decided that in the end, this is my blog, and though it is available publicly, I am still free to share what I want without needing to fear the reactions of others.

As most of you know, I lost my child earlier this month. I gave birth to Matthew, my little gift from God, on the morning of December 4th. He was stillborn. It's difficult to describe the range of emotions I felt at the hospital and during the days that have followed since.

As the year is coming to a close, I am seeing a lot of people posting about how 2014 has been. Lots of those little Facebook slideshows that have the year in review. And they almost always say, "It's been a great year!" As I have reflected on my year, I'm left feeling emptiness and sadness. I was expecting to be able to call 2014 a great year. But losing my baby tore away all those dreams that I had. Now I look back at how excited I was to be pregnant and looking forward to having that child, and all I can think is how it should have been. My baby bump should be showing, and I would be proud of it. I should be feeling his precious movements. I should be buying cute newborn clothes and setting up his things.

And there are so many things I will forever be left wondering about: what would he have looked like? Would his hair be dark like Josh's? Would it be curly or straight? Would he have our brown eyes or get our recessive blue? Would he be a mild-mannered baby? Would he become a rambunctious toddler? It doesn't seem fair. I would never get to rock him to sleep, cradled in my arms. I would never get to sing him a lullaby. I am his mother, yet I would never get to mother him.

So when I look at the year 2014, it is with a heavy heart, full of great sadness and a longing that will never be filled. The turning of the year is a reminder of all the year should have brought, and all the dreams that came with it. That I went home from the hospital that day with broken dreams and empty arms. And though time is the great healer, that pain will always remain.


Fortunately, in the midst of grief and tragedy, hope can still be found.

I know that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we will be reunited with our precious boy again. Because of Him, we are and will always be a family, even if I can't be with Matthew at this time. Because of Him, the pain of being without my boy in this life will be but a brief moment compared to the joy of eternity.

~ Ashley

You Are Never Alone

Please take a moment to watch this before you read on:

None Were with Him

With the recent loss of our son Matthew, I have had time to reflect on a lot of things. I have suffered with depression for a major portion of my life. I know what it is to suffer grief and loss; to feel empty inside; to suddenly feel emotion for no reason at all; and to lose motivation and hope.

I feel that with this trial we continue to face, there will be light at the end of the tunnel...there is hope.

During a routine check-up appointment with Ashley's OBGYN, we were so excited to hear the heartbeat of our little child. Through the first trimester of pregnancy and into the start of the second, there is no other sensible sign that your baby is alive other than getting you get to hear your child's heartbeat with the aid of a fetal doppler during doctor visits. Sometimes it takes a while to locate the child as they move around and sometimes are in unexpected places. This had happened in a previous visit, so when the doctor had trouble locating a heartbeat, I wasn't too worried. It wasn't until the doctor had been searching for what seemed like fifteen minutes and told us that he wanted to have an ultrasound done so that we could properly see and hear the baby. The doctor was quick to advise us not to start worrying until we actual saw or heard something that would cause worry and also because Ashley had had no bleeding, cramping, or other signs of problems with our child.

We tried to stay calm and weren't too worried as we waited 20-30 minutes to have the additional ultrasound done. When we went in the doctor came in with us and the ultrasound tech started looking for the baby. When we first saw Matthew, he wasn't moving at all, which alarmed me that something was wrong. She then listened for a heartbeat and there was no sound and the readings on the monitor were flat. I knew that what I was seeing was that our child had no heartbeat, but I was just waiting in anticipation for our child to suddenly start moving or hearing it's little heart beating vigorously. It wasn't until the ultrasound technician typed, "NO HTBT" on the screen that I realized this was real. I heard her apologize to Ashley for the loss of our child. I was still in disbelief but I felt myself get up to hug and comfort Ashley while she cried.

That was a hard day for us both. We were told that from the ultrasound and what we had said regarding Ashley's health that there was no known cause for this fetal demise (when a child dies suddenly in the womb). He advised us that most parents seek their whole lives for the cause of this death. Some find it he said, and live in fear of it happening again; spending future pregnancies worried and stressed, instead of spending them in enjoyment and happiness. Some parents blame one another which could lead to resentment and ultimately discord in marriage. Some parents never find out why and for them, their grieve and curiosity are never satiated. He told us that most causes of fetal demise are in fact unknown and that we should seek to support each other rather than wasting energy finding cause or blame.

In the following days as we shared our sad news, not long after we had publicly announced our pregnancy, we found support from many.

I cannot express or illustrate how important and meaningful any prayer, comment, checking in with us, calling us, visiting us, sending flowers, food, gifts, and loving support helped us. I cannot believe that many of my friends from high school, who I have not talked to in years, other than the occasional like or comment on Facebook, did any of the things I just listed for us. I know that God is real and He does take care of us His children. I know this not just through my own faith, but in the prayers, concern, love, and help of others. There is no way Ashley or I have been able to be as calm and strong as we have if it wasn't for the support of others. No matter what trials we go through, no matter how difficult they are, nothing brings more strength than knowing you are not left alone.

We all have, do, and will experience trials, hardships, failure, depression, fear, pain, rejection, and loneliness. Isn't it in these moments that we seek for someone to understand,feel,  and acknowledge the hurt we feel? I know no matter how alone or unwanted we feel, there is always someone out there who will listen, who will comfort us, who will help us heal. Don't ever let yourself think otherwise because it is simply not true. Even the most disappointed parents still love their children, friendships can always be mended, love can always be found. I have had too many trials where I have felt utterly alone, but I have always found someone, even in the unlikeliest or unexpected of places, someone who truly cares for me and wants me to know that they know how much I hurt. I have always been able to find comfort in someone who matters.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out or even just reads our posts. We are able to continue healing because of your support and the overwhelming love we feel from you. Again I testify that God is real and that He has taken care of us, partially through each of you. I continue to be humbled by your love and continued support. I love Ashley and Matthew with all of my heart, and I do also for you.

-Josh