The Other Side of the Statistic {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

This post is a little different than what I've been posting all month. You've heard stories from my side of the statistic- the "1's" in the 1 in 4. But for every 1 in 4, there are also the 3 in 4's- the ones who haven't suffered a miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss. We all have them in our lives. I'm constantly reminded of the 3 in 4's every time I get on Facebook. If you've suffered a loss, you know what I mean. It seems like everyone is pregnant and having babies. Everyone but you. And to be frank, it sucks. 

But earlier this month, one of my 3 in 4's sent me this letter. By the first line, I was already crying. Her words touched me and reminded me that even though I am the 1 in 4 in our group of friends, I am not just 1. I am surrounded by the love, support, and prayer of my 3 in 4's. 

I decided to include the email she sent as well, because I think it is an excellent preface to the letter. I hope that all my fellow 1 in 4's have 3 in 4's as great as mine. I know I couldn't have made it through without them. 

. . .

So I have been thinking about you lots this month. Not just because of your blog and what this month represents, but I can't help but think back to a year ago. When we shared our news with each other. We celebrated. We were so happy and excited. And I still so badly want that for you.

So I wrote you this letter just to get some of my thoughts down on paper. At first I addressed it to you but then I thought-hey, Shar is reaching out to so many through her blog. So many women are grieving or struggling. So I took out our names--now this letter to you represents--oh I don't know what to call it---maybe an outside perspective? Encouraging words? Thoughts from a friend to all of those women struggling.

To my Friend,

1 in 4. I have to admit, I had no idea. I was oblivious.

I didn’t know that 1 in 4 women suffer from infertility or miscarriage or loss. Just hearing that number still doesn’t bring to reality the emotions it should. A statistic, as startling as it is, is kind of cold. And I know that if it hasn’t happened to you, those numbers are probably just numbers. Now, I am not claiming in any way to know how it feels to by “the one.” So far in my life, I have been one of the other three. But you know that, Friend. Because you are our one.

You might be wondering why I, a mother of two, never having lost a child, am writing to you about infertility and miscarriage. As I sit here typing, I am kind of wondering what I have to say too. But that 1 in 4 statistic has been on my mind since last December. It is on my mind when I look at the picture of the four of us hanging up in my house-young and naive. It is on my mind when I see you smile at my son. It is on my mind when I am rocking my children to sleep at night. So I am just going to write and share because maybe you need to read my words. Or someone out there needs to hear this.

I said before that I was oblivious to the statistic but that doesn’t mean I had not ever thought about infertility or losing a child. My parents battled infertility for many years before finally getting pregnant with twins. Sadly, my brother and sister passed away at birth. As much as it hurt knowing that I never got to meet my siblings, that hurt is nowhere near the pain I know my parents felt and still feel. My grandparents still decorate their stone for holidays. We always talk about how old they would have been on their birthday. They have never been forgotten. My parents had me one year later. I am an in-vitro baby. My parents wanted me so badly. I am so thankful for their strength to keep fighting. I am so thankful that they didn’t give up after all of their heartache.

Fast-forward through my teen years and into my twenties and I would be lying if I said I never worried about not be able to have kids. It happened to my Mom. It could happen to me. But it didn’t. After the easiest pregnancy, I had my daughter. Doubt or worry never crossed my mind once I reached that “magical” twelve week mark and saw a little heart flicker on the screen. I was in the clear. Nothing bad could ever happen to me. Because that is what we all think. Not me. I won’t be the one.

Two years later I found myself pregnant again. Just as easy as the first. Doubly blessed. With no worries. Until that day in December. When your world came crashing down. You had lost your little flicker. You had lost your sweet baby. And there was nothing I could do.

I have to admit something to you Friend. Although you were the one grieving, I, being a selfish human being, turned your hurt into my own. I thought about the fact that my baby had lost a friend. And in darker moments, I feared that I would lose a friend. I had no idea how to provide emotional support for you at this time. I was too scared to hear your voice, so I texted. I was too scared to see you, so I sent a gift instead. I dreamed up all of these scenarios where you didn’t want to talk to me or how this hurt our friendship. I put words in your mouth that you never said—“Why have you been blessed with two and my little blessing was taken from me.” But Friend, you never ever said that. YOU were the brave one that reached out to me first. You talked to me first. You bought my little one gifts. You visited me at the hospital. You held my baby. You amazed me. And you made me a better person and parent.

You have brought to light this “secret” that many women and families are struggling with. You have been open and honest and so strong-even if you think you have struggled. You are allowed to struggle. And please know that I am always, always here. You have taught me to live life and to take nothing for granted. My life is a gift. My children’s lives are gifts. Every morning I should wake happy and every night I should go to bed thankful. You have reminded me of this way of life and I thank you.

But guess what, that is not always that easy. I catch myself frustrated when my baby wakes at night. I complain about my two year old’s tears. Or the laundry or the dishes or my day at work. And then I see the little cross hanging in my son’s room or I see the cutest little white butterfly at the perfect moment and I am quickly reminded of you. You would give anything to have a baby crying at 3am. You would love nothing more than to wipe away tears or fold little laundry all night. So instead of feeling sorry for myself I have been praying for you and your chance. And I have been praising God for our friendship and your strength. You and your husband and your son have touched my family’s life. We are forever thankful for that.

Not too long ago I heard someone say that God gives us children to raise to be his angels. And sometime he needs those angels a little bit earlier than we would like. I do not know if this comforts you…..but it comforts me in knowing that God chose your son to watch over my littles. He visits us often. He is thought about just as much. We will celebrate him always. He will not be forgotten by us.

And you. You will not be forgotten. Every week I think maybe this is it….maybe she will call with some great news. And when I do not hear any, I pray. You deserve happiness and joy and love and excitement—you deserve a miracle.

My dear Friend, I hate that you are 1 in 4. I do not know why—a question I know you have asked. But I do hope that you know that you have helped so many and touched lives. Your beautiful butterfly has changed lives. I just wanted to let you know.

Love ya.

Baby Peterson {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

Meet Jeannette and her family. We went to grade school together for a little while before she moved out West. We reconnected after high school on Facebook. I watched as her little family grew from just her and her husband to two handsome boys. Jeannette was due with her third son while I was pregnant with Ian. I remember the kind words she spoke to me after learning about Ian, and how she had had a miscarriage as well. As I was sitting in the waiting room at my OB's office for my 6 week follow up appointment from delivering Ian, I couldn't believe what I saw on my Facebook newsfeed. Jeannette's full term baby was born without a heartbeat. Read her story below:

Hello readers! My journey through conception and motherhood has not been easy but so worth it. I love each one of the sweet spirits the Lord sent to our family. My first pregnancy ended early in miscarriage. We were devastated but hopeful for the future. A season after that pregnancy we conceived our first handsome boy Berick. As he grew into a toddler, we knew he needed a sibling so we started trying again. We believe I had another miscarriage but it was very early on and not confirmed. The next month we were pregnant with our second sweet boy Flynn. He wasn't even a year old before we felt it was time to have another baby. And that leads me to Greyson.

I was due to have Greyson any day. I had anticipated him coming early since Berick and Flynn were early. So with each week that passed I was becoming more and more uncomfortable and ready to meet my 3rd little boy.

I reached 39 weeks and still no baby, but all of my appointments said he was healthy, just comfortable. In the early morning hours of January 27th I got up to use the restroom. I noticed that my baby didn't move at all. This was strange but I tried to brush it off. I ended up going into our living room to see if I could get him to move. I was up for about an hour and still nothing. I tried not to panic and went back to sleep.

Fast forward to around 8 AM. I get up and still haven't felt baby move. I begin to get very worried. I told my husband I was scared and called my doctor's office. They told me to try to eat something sugary and come to the hospital. We dropped my boys off at a dear friend's house and headed in. The drive to the hospital was a long one. We said a prayer before we left but I just had a bad feeling the whole way. I kept trying to get him to move but there was just nothing.

We arrive at the hospital, get checked in, and are given a bed. A nurse comes in to hook me up to monitors. The room is silent as she puts the sensor on my belly...nothing...nothing. She says she can't find the heart beat and went to get an ultrasound machine. She comes back and starts looking with the ultrasound. We see our perfect boy on the screen but where the flicker should be for his heart there is nothing. Then our world stopped.

"I'm so sorry but your baby's heart has stopped. We can give you a moment." They leave and my husband and I let the news sink in. I have never cried so hard in my life. The worse was still to come though.

We made the decision to be induced immediately. I received a blessing from my husband and brother in law and we were sent to labor and delivery. The induction process was long but we had the company of my brother and sister in law to pass the time. My mother and step dad arrived at 11 PM to be with us. I got an epidural so I wouldn't have to feel physical pain. The emotional pain was already so overwhelming. The induction started around 2 PM. Around 12:30 AM on the 28th I felt pressure and it was time to push. I was so incredibly scared. I was excited to see the baby I carried for so long but scared because we knew he would never take a breath.

We asked our loved ones to leave and he was born at 12:39. Greyson Reid Petersen, 8 lbs 2 oz, 21 inches long and perfect. He looked like the perfect combination of our other 2 boys. They laid him on my chest and my heart broke into a thousand pieces. My husband and I wept and held each other. They brought Greyson to a bassinet and Kenyon went with him while I was tended to. I had my mom come in. Although they placed him on me after birth I wasn't able to look at him. It hurt too much.

The nurses and my husband cleaned him up and brought him to me where my heart broke all over again. Everything about him was so perfect. My husband and I couldn't believe he had nothing wrong with him yet he had passed.

Our loved ones came in to hold him and we were given 24 hours with him. I went home that same day. We wanted to hold our boys and kiss their faces. It was a whirl wind until Greyson's funeral. He was buried next to his grandfather.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of my angel. My own heart breaks every time I think of how old he would be now. We were told his cause of death was a cord accident. When he was born it was wrapped tightly around his neck.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to have known him even if for such a brief time in the womb. I'm grateful for how close my husband and I have become since his passing. I'm grateful I have two sweet boys here on earth to care for. And I'm grateful for the day when I get to see Baby Grey again in Heaven.

...

Greyson's headstone just came in this week, so Jeannette wanted me to include it here. Isn't it beautiful?

Baby Huffman {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

Meet Beth and her family. I met Beth at work and instantly fell in love with her adopted daughter, Olivia. Her story is one of hope and heartbreak, with the real struggle of trying to heal after everything is over. Read Beth's story below:

Twelve years ago I found out that I was infertile.  After five years of struggling to cope with infertility,  we decided to adopt. We waited for three years for our daughter, Olivia, to come into our life. She is almost 4 years old. After adopting Olivia, we agreed that we were content with one child. 

In January of 2015 my husband was laid off from work and in effort to save money we both stopped using some of our medications.  I've been on birth control, except when we were trying to conceive,  for years for hormonal reasons. I stopped taking them without any worries.  In April my husband went back to work and in May I refilled my prescriptions.  But, before I could start a new pack I decided it was the responsible thing to do to test first. 

Over the years I have peed on more sticks than I can count. I never expected to get a positive that day. But there it was, two lines. Two more tests confirmed it. My doctor and I giggled through my first OB appointment.  Neither of us thought I would ever be pregnant.  An ultrasound showed a baby at six weeks gestation.  We saw the heartbeat.  A real, alive baby in my womb. You have no idea how many times I had looked up at an ultrasound screen praying to see something in there. It was a miracle.  

As the weeks progressed I had to remind myself several times a day that it was really true. I gave up caffeine and did everything a pregnant woman is supposed to do. I had an appointment to hear the heartbeat but it was pushed back due to my doctor going on vacation.  

At 12 weeks I started bleeding.  I waited through the weekend hoping that it would stop, but only got heavier.  My mother took me into the ER on Monday morning.  After running some tests it was finally time for an ultrasound.  As soon as the tech got started it was obvious that there was something wrong. In fact, there was no baby at all. I was shocked and panicked.  

I understood that I went into the ER with the possibility that I was loosing my baby, but I expected to see a baby, alive or not, on that screen just as I did 6 weeks earlier.  I asked the tech if she saw anything and she shook her head. I came unglued right there on the table. An internal ultrasound did show some remains. Back in the exam room the doctor explained to me that it looked like the baby had died between 7-8 weeks gestation and that my body had begun to "break down the fetus". They didnt know why my body had delayed miscarriage so long but she wanted me to go home and miscarry naturally.  

It seemed like an impossible and heartbreaking task to me. Two weeks of bleeding,  contractions, and cramping I finally delivered a ruptured sack. Aside from some unidentifiable tissue, that was all that was left. It took another 4 weeks for my hcg levels to go down. A month after that I experienced the worst period of my life. It was even more painful than the miscarriage.  

The emotional toll has been far beyond anything that I have ever experienced.  I lay awake at night crying out to God for mercy and compassion,  knowing that He cannot give me back what I have lost. Before the pregnancy I knew who I was. I was the infertile adoptive mom. Now I am broken. I have to some how learn to live with this pain. I do have hope that someday I might be okay. 

I delivered what remained of my precious Star on July 26, 2015. I was due on January 23, 2016.

Baby Baxter {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

Meet Melani and her family. Melani is married to my cousin Doug. They have three sweet children, and I had no idea that she had had a miscarriage. Read Melani's story below:

"I knew I loved you before I met you."  Those are the lyrics to a Savage Garden song that I never really "got".  How can you love someone without knowing them first.  It seemed to me like you were putting the cart before the horse, so to speak.  I never really thought too much about it until October 2009.  I felt every emotion in the book, and all these emotions I felt for someone I would never know or meet. 

******** 

            I was finally headed to get my gallbladder taken out.  After years of attacks and discomfort, I finally bit the bullet and made the appointment.  Bright and early on a Friday, I did the standard paperwork and urine screen to make sure I wasn't pregnant.  I set my specimen on the counter and went about putting my gown and slippers on.  The nurse grabbed my sample and took it to do the test.  About 10 minutes later my surgeon came in and said we would have to reschedule my surgery for a later time. 

            "Oh, okay why?"  I blankly asked.

            "Well, sweetie, because you're pregnant"  She was trying to gauge my response carefully.

            I instantly went into panic mode.  We had a 5 year old girl and a 15 month boy old at home.  We were done.  WE AGREED WE WERE DONE!  So there my husband and I were, staring at one another, trying to decide the next step.  The nurse called my OBGYN and they said to come straight over for blood work and an ultrasound.  I slowly got dressed while Doug went out to get the car.  The more I thought about it the more excited I got.  Obviously "someone" wanted us to have another baby.  By the time I got in the car and was headed for my new appointment I was happy.  Doug was coming around to it.  He's much more analytical than me. 

            Now I was in a different gown getting an ultrasound.  The tech was very sweet and let us see the "peanut"  right away.  Since I wasn't very far along (about 4 weeks) she couldn't really take too many measurements so she went straight for looking for a fetal pulse.  She looked and looked, but wasn't really getting anything on the monitor.  She instantly left and talked to the doctor.  When she came back in she quietly told us to head to the back waiting room so I could get my blood drawn.  After that I didn't see the doctor or talk to anyone we were just dismissed to go home.  I went to work that Monday and of course everyone wanted to know why I was back so soon from my surgery.  I told them and we all laughed about the situation.  You have to admit, it's a pretty amusing way to find out you're pregnant.

            By the following Wednesday I was miserable.  Bleeding and cramping were the order of the day.  I called the on-call OB doctor that night and she very blankly said "You're miscarrying, didn't anyone talk to you about what was going to happen?"  NO... NO ONE TOLD ME ANYTHING!  I had miscarried many years ago but I didn't even know I was pregnant that time until after it happened, so I had no idea what to expect.   This time was different.  I knew I was pregnant.

            Thursday morning I went into have more bloodwork to make sure that I was indeed miscarrying.  Still no doctor communication.  Thursday afternoon on my way to work the clinic called to tell me my hormone levels were dropping and that I would have some discomfort before I passed the fetus.  The fetus?...This wasn't just a fetus, this was our baby...MY BABY!  My goofball friends had already started picking out names from Vampire Diaries.  What was I going to tell them?  The bleeding just kept getting worse. 

            I didn't sleep at all that night.  Between the cramping and bleeding and all the emotions I was a wreck.  Friday morning I called my friend that worked at the clinic and told her what was going on.  I was still bleeding and could barely stand because the cramps were so bad.  She talked to the Physician Assistant and then told me to get my butt in there now!  Doug had to come get me and we headed to the clinic.  More bloodwork to check my hemoglobin and a quick exam and I was promptly sent back to where it all started, the surgery center.  I had the same nurse as when this whole thing started.  She just looked at me and I burst into tears.  She helped me change and they gave me medicine to calm my nerves, pain and stomach...I definately needed at least one of them.  They got my IV started and we walked back to the OR.  I had to state my name, birthdate and why I was there.  I couldn't get it out, I couldn't say it. Melani Baxter, 10-02-1979 and I'm having a D&C.  Why couldn't I say it?  Tears were streaming down my face.  The anesthesiologist (who I knew from when I worked at a local coffee shop) said "I know who she is, we are okay to start."  Thank you God, because if I said it out loud that meant it was really happening.  I went under thinking the worst thoughts possible.  What did I do wrong?  Is this my fault?  Why is this happening to me, to us?  And then I woke up, and it was all over.  It was official, unnamed Baby Baxter was gone.  I was dismissed to go home home and recover.  I spent all weekend in bed not talking to anyone.  I needed to process all of it. 

            Friends sent flowers and text messages, gave hugs and condolences.  I went back to work (probably way too soon) and tried to move on.  I didn't really talk about what happened for almost a year.  Then it all came out in one giant flood of emotions when a friend's daughter was having trouble with her pregnancy.  I needed that. I needed the flood gates to open and all those emotions to come to the surface again.  The fear of finding out I was pregnant.  The excitment of when it all finally sank in.  The disblief of finding out I would never meet our baby.  The guilt of thinking I had done something wrong.  The anger, pain, betrayal, empitness etc...

            We all know that after a good storm we see a rainbow.  A sign of a new start, of good things to come and a true gift from God.  In March 2013 we got our "rainbow" baby.  Layla was born and the hole in my heart left from my miscarriage began to fill.  I will always hold a special place in my heart for the children that I lost (the one so many years ago and the one only 6 years ago), but I know now that I did nothing wrong.  For whatever reason those trials were meant to carve me into the parent I am today.  And I now understand those song lyrics so much more than I thought I ever would. 

The -M- Family {Photoshoot}

Last week I finally got to meet my newest second cousin, Emmy. And boy was she a doll. Those big blues eyes could captivate anyone. Addison was just smitten with Emmy, Kason was more interested in his bike, but that's a typical brother for you!

Here are a few of my favorites from their session:

Kason was upset that he didn't get to hold Emmy!

So much love <3

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

To many, October 15 is just another day in October. To 1 in 4 women, October 15 marks Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I hope that my campaign to bring you stories of those 1 in 4 women has shed some light on the realities of the struggles many women face trying to conceive.

As we enter the second half of the month, I ask that you keep all these families that have shared stories on my blog, and all those families that keep their stories in their hearts, in your prayers. I ask that you show compassion to all those that have lost a baby, no matter if they were 4 weeks or 40 weeks pregnant. And I ask that you remember the names of those sweet babies that we have lost, both named here and in our hearts.

Alexander Paul Baker
Baby Baxter
Baby Doss
Baby Huffman
Baby Petersen
Baby Slevin
Caleb Lee Hunsaker
Gabriel Matthew Yallaly
Greyson Reid Petersen
Ian Joseph Schackmann
John Paul Thoele
Jordan Leigh Hunsaker
Kristina Jane Ryker
Rose Francis Thoele
Ryan Michael Blievernicht

Tonight, I encourage all of you to light a candle at 7 PM. If people in every time zone light their candle at 7 PM, there will be a continuous wave of light for the entire day.

Let those we carry in our hearts be remembered by those we carry in our arms. <3

Baby Thoele {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

Meet Julia and her family. Julia is married to Eric's cousin Luke. She has always been very open about her miscarriages and offered much needed support to Eric and I after losing Ian. Read her story below:

Hi!  My name is Julia Thoele. I am happily married to Luke and a stay-at-home mother to Alice (3.5 years) and Annemarie (3.5 months).  We have two little saints watching over us from heaven, Rose and John.  We reside in Bloomington, IL.

Alice was conceived right after we were wed in June 2011.  We welcomed her home and lived happily ever after.  Because things had gone according to our “plan,” fertility issues weren’t part of our lives.

Once Alice was about a year and half, we wanted to actively try for more.  We were- and are- using Natural Family Planning.  Rose was conceived and we were ecstatic to be welcoming another baby into our family.

Friday, January 24, 2014 started out like any other day.  We got up, had breakfast, and Alice and I spent all morning cooking in the kitchen.  Around 10 AM I went to the bathroom and noticed blood.  I had been feeling great so this surprised and worried me.  I called Luke, a few friends for reassurance, put my feet up in the recliner, and said a few prayers.  I thought maybe the blood was from being on my feet all morning.  This couldn’t really be happening to me.

I got up intermittently over the next couple hours and every time the bleeding was heavier.  I called my OB and made an appointment for 3 PM that afternoon.  Luke came home to take me.

We sat in the waiting room with heavy hearts.  When it was our turn for the ultrasound, we saw a six-week-old baby but no heartbeat.  We were completely devastated.  We headed straight for our church and prayed for a while in the Adoration chapel.  We knew we didn’t have the answers, but He did.  I felt like I needed to be home, so we left.  My parents were at our house when we arrived, which was such a blessing.  (They has already scheduled this trip and this was just another little way God’s grace was filling the day.)  They watched Alice while Luke and I went to our bedroom.  Just a few minutes after we had been home, I felt a strange wave come over me.  I went to the bathroom and gave birth to our Rose Francis Thoele.  I scooped her tiny body up and held her in my hand.  Luke and I held each other and cried.  It was an absolutely surreal moment.

Since our friends had experienced this before and shared with us how they buried their baby, we knew we wanted to do the same.  We found a small box and numbly called the funeral home.  They were so beautiful and treated us with great respect in grieving our little girl.  We made arrangements with our priest and the funeral home to have a graveside service a few days later. 

We were blessed to hold her little body and bury her a few days later.  It was a very surreal experience that reminded us of how truly precious each life is, from conception to natural death.  

Below is a picture of a 6 week old baby and Rose’s headstone.

We found out in May 2014 that we were expecting our third child!  Praise be to God.  There were no signs of anything going wrong, so we were very shocked when at the 10 week ultrasound there again was a baby but no heartbeat.

The doctor said I could have two weeks to deliver myself and if nothing happened they would schedule a d & c to deliver the baby.  Because I had been through this before, I much preferred delivering on my own to a surgery.  A week and a half later I start hemorrhaging, went to the ER, and had to have an emergency d & c.  My advice to anyone in this situation: go to the ER as soon as you suspect something because I waited too long, lost too much blood, and it was a scary experience.

I had the d & c at St. Anthony’s Memorial Hospital in Effingham, IL.  They have a very beautiful program that supports the grieving parents and buries the baby for you at a community plot.  While we couldn’t put our own headstone on John’s gravesite, they left a temporary marker so we will always know.

They did a test on John see if there were any chromosomal abnormalities and there were not.  Within that testing, they were able to confirm that our John Paul was a boy!  (Good thing, since we already named him John Paul.)

Now not only were we so sad to lose our two babies, but we were scared for our fertility.  Was there something wrong?  We sought out Dr. Jillian Stallings, an NFP-only OB, in Peoria, IL and also a Creighton (a different form of NFP from the one we were using previously) teacher.  We charted for months and everything looked healthy.  We have no answers as to why this happened.  I’m still trying to be ok with that.  He knows and that has to be enough.

We tried again and conceived our fourth, Annemarie Elizabeth!  Her pregnancy went well and she is now a joyful, full-of-smiles, precious baby girl whom we cherish every day. 

-----------

Rose and John will always be Alice’s little sister and brother. Annemarie will hear about them and look through their books.  We will ask them to watch over us from heaven.  I encourage you to talk about your babies.  Name them. 

If your family has lost a child as well, I recommend reading the chapter titled “Miscarriage” in Kimberly Hahn’s book “A Life Giving Love” and the book “After Miscarriage” by Karen Edmisten (a very short and VERY worthwhile read).  I have also created little scrapbooks for each of them.  I wrote stories about their short time on earth, how we were able to see God’s hand in each of their passings, pictures of their gravestones, how they got their names, prayer cards people gave us, and more.

Miscarriage is too often glossed over, but it is a devastating loss of life.  We have great confidence Rose and John are in heaven with Jesus but we still miss them.  We are so sorry if you too have experienced a loss in this way and we are praying for your family. 

You are welcome to contact me at juliathoele@gmail.com

God bless,
Julia

The -B- Family {Photoshoot}

After seeing her sister Tracey's pictures, Tina immediately contacted me and asked if I would take pictures of her and her family- and of course I agreed! We met on a beautiful Saturday afternoon and I watched their little family's personality come to life in front of my camera.

Olivia's inquisitive personality really shined through during the shoot. And although Patrick remained pretty serious, mom and dad were able to get that handsome smile out of him. The love this family shares is evident, and I'm so glad that I was able to catch some of that love on film. Enjoy some of my favorites!

Baby Yallaly {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

Meet DeAnne and her family. DeAnne is the only girl cousin I have on my mom's side, so even though we are ten years apart, we have always been close. When DeAnne was pregnant with their second child, the unthinkable happened- she learned his heartbeat was gone. Read DeAnne's story below:

The Story Of My Forever Son! It all started with the excitement that my son would have a sibling to play with, a "forever best friend," when we began trying for our second child. Just like that God answered my prayer with a yes & I became pregnant. I had a perfect pregnancy with my first so we decided to share our exciting news with our family & close friends. Again God blessed me with a perfect pregnancy (no morning sickness or mood swings). As I approached week 16 I was eager to maybe think this appointment I would find out the sex! If you know me I'm a planner and I wanted to start planning for this child's room, wardrobe, etc. I went to this appointment alone as my husband had been to just about all of my first child's appointments & most of this one's appointments. I was to call him if we would find out the sex. So here I was at my 16 week appointment ready to hear my second child's heartbeat &........................................................it was gone! I wanted to run far away & tell no one. Because if no one knew it wasn't real...right? So once reality hit which was shortly after I asked Doc, "What comes next?" Well that painful call to my husband was it! It broke my heart all over again & each time I told another person it kept breaking....until I believe nothing was left. That night I cried more than my 30 yr old self had EVER cried!!! I blamed myself.... over & over & over & over again! My husband was my rock! The most solid one God made for me!! Quicker than I had expected each day I grew stronger because I had a son who needed me & a husband who couldn't be my rock forever! Then I looked to God he gave me STRENGTH I NEVER KNEW I HAD! God lost his ONLY son! He understood my pain. As we waited for my body to go into labor at the hospital I couldn't help but be sad but also surprisingly excited to hold our baby. When I held him he was "PERFECT!"Another boy. He had every part. God made him perfectly!!  He just wasn't ready to be born here. As I looked at him I knew it wouldn't be the last time! He would be our "forever" son in heaven, my son's best friend. When he was buried I felt a sense of peace that he was home, not the home I would have chosen first, but he never was my child. We are all God's children! It still hurts to think about this chapter of my life. To explain to my son that he won't be hugging his brother here on Earth. But you better believe we will get a grand tour of heaven as we arrive, by the most special resident to us! Does time make it easier? Yes! Does it still hurt the same? Yes...just less often!! Why does God call to heaven little children? I think because "perfect" angels are hard to find!     

Baby Slevin {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

Meet Jody and her family. I met Jody in college at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville. This wonderful family was blessed with a beautiful daughter, but there was loss along the way. Here is what Jody had to say about her miscarriage:
December 2012,

The emptiness, heartache, feelings that you lost a part of your soul; that is how I felt when things went awry. Mentally I was okay, but physically my body was in depression mode. Every inch of my body was crampy, achy, and sad. I had lost a little person that could have been something amazing. A little person that would have made our lives so much happier. A little person we would love deeply and unconditionally until the day we die. Although we never got to meet that little person, we are confident he/she will be waiting for us at those pearly gates above. I will always feel a part of my soul is forever missing; however, God brought us a blessing only two months later. We conceived Sophia Joli Slevin February 14th, 2013. She was born November 10, 2013. #1 baby Slevin will never be forgotten nor replaced; a part of my heart will always be reserved for you my love!

Baby Schackmann {Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness}

I wanted to start out my blog post series by retelling my story. It's a real, raw account of what happened almost a year ago when Eric and I lost our first child, Ian. 

In many ways, we are still healing from this loss. We will probably be in the process of healing for the rest of our lives. But it gives us great comfort knowing that when we leave this earth, we will be reunited with Ian and will get to hold him in our arms forever, instead of just in our hearts. 

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I've been staring at my computer screen for hours, wondering how I'm going to write what I have on my mind. I go back and forth on how I wanted this blog post to start. To put it simply, there's no good way to start it.

On Tuesday, December 16, at 6:27 P.M., Eric and I became parents to our beautiful, innocent, perfect little boy, Ian Joseph Schackmann.

Just one short long week earlier, I went in to my OB/GYN office to check for our baby's heartbeat. Eric and I randomly used the fetal Doppler we have at home to check on our baby's heartbeat between my doctor's appointments. I had just had my 16 week appointment on Thursday December 4th. I heard Ian's heart beating strongly at 150-160 beats per minute, the same as it had at all my previous appointments. Eric and I went on living our lives like nothing was wrong. But on Monday December 8th, something was wrong. When using the Doppler to check for our baby's heartbeat like we had so many times before, I couldn't find it. I tried for over 5 minutes, moving all over my stomach, with no luck. Eric said it was nothing, that I had just heard the heartbeat days earlier. We already knew that I had an anterior placenta and Ian liked to hang out by my back. He said that our baby was probably just hiding. The only thing I could do was believe him, thinking that I would be able to find his heartbeat in the morning.

But that next morning, I still couldn't find the heartbeat. Trying not stress out, I texted Eric my concerns. He still said not to worry, but I knew I couldn't wait until my next appointment to see if something was indeed wrong. I called my OB's office, trying to laugh off my situation and saying that I just needed some reassurance. I was scheduled to come in later that afternoon.

Once at my doctor's office, a nurse took me back to an exam room to check on the heartbeat. She made small talk to me as she looked, but I couldn't help but notice the fear in her eyes as she too, like I had done many times that day, searched my stomach high and low for my dear baby's heartbeat. She decided to call in another nurse, one that used the Doppler more often than she did and always had luck finding heartbeats, to take a listen. As she searched, I couldn't help but fear the worse. She told me that she thought she was picking up something around 150, which could be the baby. To make sure, she decided to have me squeezed in to get an ultrasound.

Sitting in that waiting room waiting on the ultrasound was torture. I was there, alone, fearing the worst. I saw numerous women who were visibly pregnant, oblivious to the fear and pain I was feeling. When I was finally called back for my ultrasound, I didn't know what to think. I was hoping, praying, that I would see that tiny flicker of a heartbeat on the screen. Deep down, though, I knew something was wrong.

The wand hit my stomach and the ultrasound tech moved it around until she found the baby. But this wasn't the baby I had seen just weeks before down at SIU, arms and legs flailing around, his mouth opening and closing. No, this baby was something unrecognizable-curled up into a small ball. The tech quickly took measurements without saying a word. I tried staying positive, but then she told me the words that will forever haunt my nightmares, "I'm sorry, Sharon, but your baby has no heartbeat." Tuesday, December 9, at 3;05 P.M. our lives were forever changed.

I immediately called Eric. The only thing I could muster to get out was that the baby had no heartbeat. He said he was on his way. I was brought to another room to wait on Dr. Haller to come in and talk about what to do next. Luckily, Theresa works in Effingham and came over to the doctor's office so I wouldn't have to be alone while I waited on Eric. After what seemed like hours, Eric finally walked into the room. I couldn't help but burst into hysterical sobs when I saw him. This baby, the one we planned for, wanted, prayed for, loved, was gone.

After hearing the options, we decided that I would be induced and have the baby as opposed to getting a D&C. I couldn't stand the thought of our baby coming out of me in pieces, which would be that case if we decided on a D&C since I was so far along. I had my blood drawn to be sent for testing to see if what caused the miscarriage had something to do with me. Then we were led out the back door, which I was thankful for. I know as soon as I walked out into that waiting room I would be flooded with tears once again.

Once we got home, we told my mom, which was so much harder than I had ever imagined. Eric had told his mom, so no words were needed when she arrived. But to physically tell someone what had happened, that made it real. It was no longer this terrible nightmare that I was thrown into, but now a cruel reality that I am forced to live with for the rest of my life. I could see my mom's heart breaking, as my older brother Ryan was stillborn two years before I was born. The news not only brought on a sad reminder of her past, but also the pain of knowing what I was going through without being able to offer more than words of love and support.

The rest of that night was spent cradled in Eric's arms, letting the tears fall freely down my face, questioning why on Earth something like this had to happen. The following days went slowly. Though we tried to do things normal people do, the harsh reminder that something had changed was evident. We told a few of our closest friends what had happened, and left our parents to tell our relatives.

Cards, flowers, and sympathies flooded in. I spent most of the next week curled up on the couch, unable to reply to anyone without being overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. Friends and family stopped by, and they were a welcome distraction to the reality looming in our near future. I was scheduled to be induced at the hospital on Tuesday, December 16 at 7:30 in the morning.

As Tuesday approached, I slowly started realizing that that day was indeed almost here. That I would have to accept the fact that I soon would no longer be carrying our son. Thankfully, Monday was a long day. But when Monday night rolled around, I did everything I could to keep from going to bed. I made Eric watch just one more show with me in the living room before we laid down in bed, knowing that that would mean I was that much closer to Tuesday. I laid as close as I could to Eric that night, and he never took his arm out from under my neck.

Tuesday morning we were mostly silent as we prepared for the day. Eric made us cinnamon rolls for breakfast as I finished packing our hospital bag. Once in our room in Labor and Delivery, I broke down again. That was not how I pictured my first time in Labor and Delivery to be. Luckily, I had to best nurses I could have ever asked for.

My nurse was very caring, telling me to take as much time as I needed before changing into my gown. She was gentle as she placed the IV into my arm, and always told me what was happening. Dr. Haller soon entered the room. She placed the first of three suppositories I would take that day to induce labor into my cervix. It took a few hours, but the nausea soon hit, as well as the feverish chills. Mild contractions weren't far behind. Luckily the nurse always came in as soon as I called her, and I was able to get pain medicine through my IV, as well as Zofran for the nausea and Tylenol for the fever I was developing.

Four hours later at 1;00 PM, Dr. Haller returned to insert the second suppository. Again, I was hit with nausea and chills, though this time they hit me sooner. Dr. Haller informed us that my cervix was still closed, but that my uterus and the baby had moved down to right above my cervix. Eric and I passed the time that day by doing a lot of sleeping, which I am thankful for. While asleep, I couldn't feel the contractions that worsened with each new suppository.

At 5:40, Dr. Haller came in again to give me the next suppository. She told me this time that my cervix had softened in the middle. She assured me that she was on call that night and would be there to deliver my baby when the time came. I chose to get my Zofran and Tylenol before I ate this time in hopes that the nausea would not hit this time. The pain medicine once again lessened the effects of my ever-strengthening contractions.

Dan, Theresa, and Nichole stopped by for a few minutes after visiting Grandma Schackmann (she was in the rehab wing of a nursing home for falling and breaking her hip the week before). While talking to them I could feel my contractions getting worse. I found myself having to focus on deep breaths through my mouth while they were there. They left to go grab Eric something to eat and said they would be back soon.

Not long after they left, my contractions became unbearable. I pressed the nurse call button, hopeful that she could give me more pain medication. Instead, she sat by my side and rubbed on my stomach. That's when I felt it happening. A deep pressure was forming in my cervix, and I felt it get lower and lower. At 6:27 PM I delivered our baby boy. The nurse quickly called in another nurse to call Dr. Haller. When Dr. Haller arrived, she told me that the sac had ruptured and the placenta did not come out with the baby. About 10 minutes and some horrible pain later, she said that the placenta was out.

Eric sat there, holding my hand tightly, as I took in several deep breaths, processing everything that had just happened. Dr. Haller came back over and asked if we wanted to hold him, our son. I immediately lost it. I know how much Eric had wanted a son, and just knowing that he would never get to know his first son completely broke my heart. And I could tell it had broken his heart too. Dr. Haller brought him over, wrapped in a baby blanket that was a million sizes too big for his little body.

But he was perfect. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. Dr. Haller said that his cord was wrapped tightly around his belly button and that where the cord attached to the placenta was mostly membrane. She couldn't be certain that this was why he passed away much too soon, but said that we would hopefully know more after he got back from his autopsy.

We were given as much time as we needed with him. We named him Ian, which means "gift from God", and gave him the middle name of Joseph, which is also Eric's middle name. He weighed 4.2 ounces and measured 7 inches long. He fit in the palm of our hands. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I took in everything I could about him-how his head was still a little too big for his body, how long his arms and legs were, those tiny little fingers and toes, his beautiful little face-knowing that all too soon I would never see our son again.

Seeing Eric hold our son once again brought me, and him, to tears. Words can't describe how perfect he looked holding Ian. I hope that one day I can give him another child to love and care for in a way that we will never get to do with Ian. We let the nurse take him to try to get his footprints and handprints, as well as take some pictures. I will treasure those for the rest of my life.

The nurse gave Ian back to us and said to take as long as we needed, because once we were ready she had to take him away to prepare him for autopsy. Eric and I each held our baby boy for the last time in this life. One last time I took in his face, his tiny body. I held his little hand and told him how much Eric and I loved him and that we couldn't wait to see him again. We cried as the nurse took him away, and she asked if we were in fact ready to say goodbye. I told her that we would never be ready. She let us give him one last kiss before she left.

Dan and Theresa had dropped off some food for us during this time, which was a welcome distraction while we waited on my discharge paperwork to be completed. After 11 hours of labor, and three and a half hours of saying goodbye to Ian and waiting to be discharged, we left the hospital. The nurse gave me a hug as she helped me into the car. It meant so much to know how much she cared about Eric and I and the tragic loss we had experienced.

The one thing that comforted me throughout this time was knowing that the first face our little Ian saw was Jesus'. Ian was up in heaven, meeting his aunt Julie and uncle Ryan, flying around with all the other angels. He was perfect, and only knows the love that Jesus, Eric, and I have for him, instead of the pain and suffering here on Earth. For that I am thankful.

Eric and I appreciate the love, kindness, thoughts, and prayers that we have and will continue to receive throughout all of this. Nothing but time can ease the hurt and sadness we feel, but please know your prayers and kind words mean so much to us.

                    "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans 
                    to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and 
                    a future." Jeremiah 29:11