12/29/89. I was 19 years old. Most people my age are out partying. Me? I was already married for a year and 5 mo's. What can I say, when you know you've met the right one, you know and we married super young. And no, I wouldn't recommend that to most people, but for us, it worked. 28 years later, still going strong....yes there are days we want to kill each other, but love is love and we made a promise to each other and God that we would "till death do us part".
That day was horrible though. It was the first true test of our marriage. Probably one of the hardest. We were so young, so naive, so clueless on so many life lessons but we were about to get a real good lesson on one we never wanted, asked for or thought we needed. I was about to join a club I never wanted to join and didn't ask for the invitation.
Vince and I were expecting our first baby. Due in May 1990. We were over the moon excited. Again, yes....young. But, we both wanted to have our children young so we would be young when we raised them and young when they flew the coop. More than anything in life, I wanted kids. From the time I was a young teenager when I started babysitting, I thought there was nothing greater in life than a baby. What a miracle. A little over a year after we were married, in September of '89, we found out we were expecting our first. I was thrilled. So was he. I was told by some family that VInce always said when he was growing up he "wanted a bus full of kids". So......we don't have a bus full, but we were blessed with 4 kids, but one didn't make it....
Two days before Christmas that year, I woke up with what I thought was an absolutely mortifying event. I thought I wet the bed. My pj's were soaked. I quickly showered and thought, "thank God he works nights, how embarrassing!!" But, with a growing baby I chalked it up as pressure on my bladder and guess I just couldn't hold it and didn't wake up to go. I guess there were worse things in life and it probably was semi normal. I left that day to finish up some Christmas shopping and the whole time I was out, I thought, again, I was wetting my pants. How ridiculous, I thought! I was 20 weeks along and kept thinking, "What's going to happen when the baby is really big and really pushing on my bladder?" After all, I had just started with a "baby bump" and was feeling those first movements. No one else could feel them yet, but I could....those precious flutters. It was SO exciting! So, how could anything be wrong? Guess it was just one of those pregnancy things....
The next day, Christmas Eve, I mentioned to my mother that I was "wetting my pants." She prompted me to call the doctor, that it didn't sound right, that maybe I had a urinary tract infection and I shouldn't let it go. So, I did just that, but it was 9 pm already. I told him that I thought I may have a UTI and he said, "Ok, if you feel worse during the night or tomorrow, call me and go to the ER but otherwise I'll see you in my office first thing on the 26th. For tonight and tomorrow, I want you to lay low and rest off your feet as much as possible." I was there at 8 am that day, the 26th of December....
I told him my symptoms....mostly I was just "wetting my pants" and couldn't seem to control my bladder. It just "leaks out" without warning. He stopped writing and looked up at me and said, "Laura, you haven't had a large gush of fluid leak out, have you? Or is it just small amounts?" I had to fess up which was really embarrassing because my husband was there and I certainly didn't want him to know I wet the bed. But I had to tell him..... "Yes, I did the other day. I woke up soaking wet. I didn't know you could pee the bed......" He said, "Ok, I'm hoping I'm wrong here but I'm going to do a test with litmus paper to see if you're leaking amniotic fluid." I still was clueless....I had no idea what was coming my way...
It was positive. I remember looking at him saying, "So what do we do now?" He just looked at me with a super sad look and said, "I need to send you to Children's Hospital to see a specialist and they need to do a sonogram to see if you have any amniotic fluid. But I'm not going to lie to you, this is a dire situation. You need to get there quickly because if you're membranes ruptured a few days ago, you're at risk for a very bad infection. We need to find out quickly what's going on. If you're membranes have ruptured, we have some very difficult decisions to make." I STILL hadn't comprehended what was about to take place.
We went right to Children's Hospital. Mind you, the fluid leaks never stopped. When I got down to Children's, I had a sonogram to see if there was any fluid. The amount that I should've had and the amount I had was not even close to measuring up. I had a "small pocket of fluid" near the baby's face, but nothing anywhere else. You see, the baby and the mom continuously produce fluid so as it produced, I leaked it out. I was immediately admitted, put on IV antibiotics and on complete bed rest to see if the "membrane would seal itself". Even then, I thought, "Well, this is good. I'm sure it will re-seal and all will be ok." But then, more specialists came. More bad news. They said, "The problem here is that you basically have a hole which is allowing bacteria to enter your reproductive tract and if you contract an infection, you could risk never being able to have any children ever again. We need to induce labor to get the baby out so your body isn't at risk anymore. You could become seriously ill and quickly." I was so shocked, so scared, so mad!!! I insisted they wait just a little bit longer to see if my body would heal. I remember my doctor coming in and saying, "Less than 1% of the time, the membrane will re-seal. Laura, you're going to lose this baby and I'm so sorry. But I will wait 24 more hours. Total bed rest...you can't even get up to go to the bathroom. But if by noon tomorrow things haven't changed, we need to move forward." I told him I felt like people were pushing me into making a decision to terminate my pregnancy and this was completely against my religious beliefs. I called up 3 ministers to pray with me. To tell me if I was doing the right thing. One of them was my former youth pastor who was now either in med school or was going to be soon. He said, "You're not doing anything wrong. Your body has already made the decision for you. What they are telling you is true. You need to listen to them and do what needs to be done.
On 12/28 they began to induce labor. Labor my body was nowhere ready to begin or respond to. It was awful. It took 36 hours. I remember begging the neonatology team to at least try and save my baby. Who were they? How did they know that this baby wouldn't survive? Were they God? I didn't care about medical statistics...miracles happen. How would they know unless they tried?? The last thing I remember them saying to me is, "Viability isn't until 26 weeks. You're 20 weeks. This baby has no chance and to be quite honest with you, the labor that is happening....it's so rough on the fetus (*which I corrected him and made him say baby!), it will probably cause it to expire before birth. I hate to admit he was right. On 12/29/89 at 10:50 pm, I delivered a still baby boy. It was the absolute, most heart wrenching thing I've ever had to do. I have never cried like I did that day up to that point and I haven't cried like that since. The sobs came from so deep within me, that it actually hurt to cry.
Looking back, I have one major regret. It's so different now.....I've had friends and family have to go through this awful experience as well and it's so geared towards healing and there is an honor and respect for the life that was just lost. My baby was brought to me on a blue hospital pad with a tiny hat on his head. No blanket.....although they did take his footprints for me and I have 2 Polaroid pictures. My husband was told at that time that prior to 20 weeks, this is labeled a miscarriage. Post 20 weeks, it is labeled a still birth but because I was exactly 20 weeks, we were given the choice what to call it. However, should we choose to label it a still birth, we would've had to legally bury the baby and here is my major regret: I wish I would've. We labeled it a miscarriage because we "thought we had been through enough and couldn't bear to see a small casket going into the ground now too." We did have a memorial service for our son and for that I am forever grateful. I needed it. I need to acknowledge and honor his life, even as short as it was. And although he never took a breath outside of my body, I rejoice in the peace that I have in knowing that I WILL see him again someday.
I was introduced some years later to two songs that have been my go to songs if I need to think of our baby. One is called "Held" by Natalie Grant. My friend Kim who has also lost her son Aiden, was the one who had me listen to it. The other is "With Hope" by Steven Curtis Chapman. My cousin Brooklyn, who also lost her son Andrew, had a video made of her baby boy and that song was playing. In the song "Held", there are lyrics that say "this is what it means to be held how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive...this is what it is to be loved and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held". In the song "With Hope", the lyrics are "We can cry with hope, we can say goodbye with hope, cuz we know our goodbye is not the end....we can grieve with hope, cuz we believe with hope....there's a place where we'll see your face again."
You see folks, through that horrible, wicked time.....I hold on to two things. First, our life is never promised to be without pain. What is promised to us is that even in our darkest hour, God sees what is happening and although we may not feel it at the moment, He's there and he's holding you and covering you with his love and mercy. Second.....because of my hope....I can rest in knowing I will see my son again someday. I can grieve with hope because my hope is in God and where I know my son is. It is glorious to me that my baby only knew two things in this world. My body and the presence of God and Heaven. I rest in knowing that I will be with him someday. Is this day hard when the anniversary of it comes around?? All 27 of them have been. All 27 of them I remember every moment of that dreadful day. But I have also seen God's full restoration in my subsequent children Vince, Katie and Christopher. I have experienced His grace and mercy and mere words do not describe it well enough. I was forever changed that day at the young age of 19.....and I will forever feel pain on this day. But it's with hope that I live. It's with gratitude that I was held....
Until someday.......Lawrence David you were loved, you are still loved and I will see you again.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmyUgsmCzB4
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABjNDl2z7sA
Thank you for sharing your story ♡ I needed to hear it more than you know.
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