One of my fave pictures of Christ |
Sunday morning around 2 am, I started having regular contractions. At first I thought they were just Braxton hicks, but with in 20 minutes they got stronger and more regular. I was in a little bit of a panic, so I drank a a ton of water and let Jason know what was going on. I got up to go to the bathroom, and blood was everywhere. My heart sank and I prayed that everything would be ok.
After telling Jason we needed to get to the hospital now, we hurried, made sure Carter was safe and secure with someone coming over to be with him, and drove like two very scared people to labor and delivery. We had no idea that 2 hours later we would meet our tiny little girls.
Once we heard everything went great after delivery, I had a feeling of hope that everything would be ok. I thought, "we're going to see some amazing miracles, and these little girls are going to make it!" How could anything go wrong when you have the power of prayer and so many prayers had been answered? I never thought in a million years that these thoughts would be too optimistic.
After they got me all stitched up and cleaned up, I was able to go with jason to see our precious miracles. As soon as I laid eyes on them I fell in love. They were beautiful, freshly from heaven, and I could not help but think how amazing it is to be a parent and to be entrusted with such special gifts from heaven. It was hard to see them with all their attachments, but what a blessing modern medicine is! We were able to meet, and spend a little bit of time with our little angels.
Everything seems like a blur from that moment on. Eventually we made it down to my hospital room, got to spend some time with Carter (he was even able to take a peek at his little sisters), and then the phone rang. The first of many phone calls we would hate to answer. My heart sank when we were told kylie was not doing well and we needed to go to the bedside asap. Her oxygen saturation had dropped dramatically, and her heart had stopped for 7 or 8 minutes. I prayed the whole way up to the NICU that everything would be ok with my sweet little Kylie. That night we did witness a miracle as I held her and her saturation went back to where it needed to be. I will forever cherish those moments; we were given hope, and I was able to hold my baby girl.
We went back to our room after a while. We didn't end up going to bed until 1 am the next morning. I was so exhausted from the days events. The awful events that would take place only hours later never entered my mind. I had faith and hope that everything was going to be ok.
At 5 am that dreaded phone rang and we were asked to come to Kylie's bedside again, as soon as we were possibly able. Kylie was going down hill, and going down hill fast. We went into a separate room with the doctors to discuss Kylie's condition. She had major stage 4 bleeding in her brain and if we kept moving forward with her care, her quality of life would be non-existent. She would be a vegetable. The doctors told us it was time to say goodbye.
After our discussion in the conference room, they prepared kylie to be taken into another room where we could spent some time together and release her from the state that she was in. I felt like I was in a nightmare and I could not wake up from it no matter how hard I tried. Holding my precious little baby girl while she passed away in my arms was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. To let her go back to where she came from, and not be selfish to keep her on this earth to be with me.
The rest of the day was super hard. That tiny ltitle lady made a huge hole in my heart. However, I was so optimistic that her sisters would make it. That kylie would be able to give them strength from the other side of the veil. Kylie could be there guardian angel. Ellie was doing the best, but there was still hope for all of them.
Tuesday morning we were yet again woken up by the ringing of our phone. I started crying instantly as we were told Ellie had taken a turn for the worse, and we would need to come and say goodbye. I couldn't believe we were living the same moments we did only hours earlier. Ellie had bleeding in her lungs. Her oxygen saturation was not where it needed to be and had been so low for several hours. She was suffering and we needed to make the decision to send her back to her Heavenly home or let her live for a little while longer, waiting for the inevitable. Ellie was our shining star. How could such hope be instant despair? My heart was shattered into a million pieces again, and the hole Kylie left became twice as big.
The rest of our Tuesday was better. We avoided our room so as not to hear the phone ring again. Eventually the exhaustion of the last two days hit us, and we both took a nap.
Wednesday was the best day we had at the hospital. We were given a tender mercy and that awful phone didn't ring. We had wonderful friends who came to see us, and again we were blessed with hope that our two girls would make it. We were weary of the long road ahead, but thought we would be blessed to raise Savanna and Lexi. I felt like everything was going to be ok.
Our hope was ripped away on Thursday when the dreaded phone rang at 6:30am. Our baby girls had made it through the night. They had lived through 72 hours, but were not looking as good as we hoped. Both girls had stage 4 brain bleeding in their brain. It was now in the tissue which meant the effects of the bleeding would be irreversible. Savanna and Lexi would be brain dead and live the life of their older sister Kylie if we were to continue to treat them. Medically they would be alive, but how selfish we would be to give them a life of no quality. I could not stand the thought of letting my sweet babies suffer.
Those last hours of being with our daughters, were the hardest moments I had yet to experience. To have all those hopes and dreams of being a mother to 4 beautiful little girls disintegrate in 3 days, was the most heart wrenching. How could this have happened? Was I still in this never ending nightmare that I could only hope I would wake up from soon? How were we to go home empty handed? How could we live with out our little girls? How could we tell Carter that his baby sisters all went to heaven to be with Shanna and Heavenly Father?
I was discharged from the hospital the next morning, and we made our way back to our home. That was the longest and hardest drive to make. Jason and I were in our van that seemed even bigger than it did before. Completely empty, missing all 6 of our beautiful children (Carter was still with his cousins).
Carter loved being with his cousins |
When we arrived home, we were greeted with beautiful paper hearts, filled with messages of encouragement and love. Our cupboards were over flowing with food, and our house was the cleanest it had been in a very long time. I could not help but be overwhelmed with love. We have had so many people, even compete strangers, reach out to help lift us up. We have been smothered with the good in this world and as we continue on our journey of healing, we know we will never be alone. I can never even begin to express the gratitude we have to know all of you! Everything is going to be ok! We will grow from these great experiences. God has a plan for all of us, even our sweet little angels; and He has given us each other to make it through this life. Thank you for all your love, support, and prayers!
Heat attacked with love. |
What a strong testimony you have of eternal families! My thoughts have been with you constantly as well as our family prayers. Stay close to your family enjoy your sweet boy and hug him tighter. I am so sorry for your loss of getting to know your girls better before Heavenly Father brought them back home. Life takes many twists and turns WAY too fast and although it SUCKS you'll be stronger for it.
ReplyDeleteWish I could be there to add my hearts. I cried through your entire post. Your little girls brought a lot of complete srangers together. In their short lives they touched more than some touch in a lifetime. Praying for you all.
ReplyDeleteI am a stranger who's been following your story. I am so sorry for all you have been through. I want you to know there are many of us who are praying for comfort for you during this time of unimaginable loss. I am in awe of all the trials you've experienced in life, yet you chose to focus on hope. You are an inspiration to me.
ReplyDeleteI work as a pediatric RN. The choice you made to let your little ones go is one of the most gracious and unselfish actions I've heard of. I have taken care of children that have lived for years without the ability to move or speak or think. It is no life, living as an empty shell, before succumbing from some sort of complication. Working as an RN has taught me that there are things worse than death. You gave your babies love and life, and let them go in peace, in your arms. What a precious gift you gave them. I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss, I can't imagine the heartbreak you are experiencing. Lots of love and prayers your way.
ReplyDeleteYour words are beautiful! I have held your family in my thoughts constantly over the last several days. Making the decision to remove life support is one of the hardest decisions but as a parent, speaking from experience, I understand having to make the decision and sometimes we realize that their life is better in heaven as much as we want them with us on Earth. Your girls knew nothing but love and will eternally be with you. Continued prayers, love and support heading your way. We are 6 months out from losing our son and it is an forever path we are on. Grieve how you need to and take the time to do what is best for you. I am so sorry you are going through this <3
ReplyDeleteI am a mother of multiples too, and I worked in an NICU for many years. You made the most beautiful, unselfish decision possible when you allowed your babies to go before you to eternity. I am so, so sorry for your pain and am sending the most heartfelt prayer for comfort your way. Though their earthly lives of your girls were brief, God entrusted them to exactly the right parents. May He hold you close and dry your tears until you are reunited again in time.
ReplyDeleteI love you guys so much. My heart is broken for you guys. I can't imagine the heartache that comes from having to endure such trials. Thank you for sharing your feelings Clarissa. You're an amazing mother and an example to so many of faith. I know Heavenly Father is taking care of your sweet angels. We're thinking of your guys constantly.
ReplyDeletePrayers of peace and strength!
ReplyDeleteYou don't know me... but my husband works with Mark Good. We heard about your family through him. We watched the BYU program with joy. I prayed so hard things would be ok. I know this is hard. I've lost 6 babies to miscarriage and stillbirth. My heart aches for you... but my prayers are even more fervent. You're right though - you will never be alone. You have five daughters just on the other side of the veil who will always be watching over you all, anxious for a time of reunion with you so they can tell you how much they love you. I'm so sorry this is so unfair. It's ok to feel it's unfair even while trusting in the Lord and his plan. It's ok to hurt and grieve.. I'm sure you know this.. because grief is another way to express love. We don't grieve what we don't love. Please know that your family has touched people you haven't ever met, and that more prayers than you realize are being sent on your behalf. From one mother to another - I love you, take it day bey day, moment by moment, and don't be afraid to ask for angels to carry you when you need it.
ReplyDeleteI am in awe of your strength. Love and light....
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