Kuyper

Sep 20

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During the summer of 2013 I wrote the story of Kuyper’s life in utero and stillbirth. At the time I was a 26 year old bereaved mother and felt no less than 60. My life had been turned upside down. I wanted to record every moment that I could recall. I never wanted to forget the precious memories I had of him. On September 20, 2013, Kuyper’s due date, I finished this account. Now years later, I am so thankful that I have this detailed story. It not only reminds me of my baby but fills my heart with gratitude for all God has done in the time that followed.

The Before

Things were going really well. Little A was seven months old. I had made it through her crazy pregnancy and the sleepless nights following. Even though my faith in God wavered so much during A's pregnancy and I was often times despondent, God was faithfully watching over me. Now, after some time away from the difficulties of pregnancy and after searching for answers to many questions my faith had been renewed. The prayer I had prayed: "I believe help my unbelief" was blessed and my belief was growing daily as I sat to talk with God each morning. In my prayers I asked for direction for our family in regards to job, ministry, and children. I prayed that God would bring us a child in 2013 but when I asked, in my mind this child would probably come through foster care which we were trying to pursue at the time. One morning, I woke up, sat down with a cup of coffee, and began to pray. God was blessing us and life was so happy and in a lot of ways easy. So…I prayed for continued blessing and ease and for preparation for the hard times because I knew on earth hard times will come. I prayed that by some means God would bring us a child in 2013 and I prayed that if that child was biological that it would be an accident and completely obvious that this child was a gift from God. I was so scared to be sick and pregnant like I had been with A. I needed to know that if I got pregnant again that it was not God permitting me a pregnancy in idolatry to have more children despite my body being ill equipped. Instead I prayed for a sign from God that he was adding to our family.

Pregnancy and Preparations

And a few weeks later on December 28, 2012 our plan for preventing pregnancy failed. I went to the computer to look at a ovulation calendar on baby center. Sure enough that was the very day I was scheduled to ovulate. A few weeks past and we had a positive pregnancy test. God had answered my prayers with, YES!

Although I was terrified of the possibility of hospital stays, ER visits, home health visits, PICC lines, PPD, and all of this while having a nine month old at home, I knew that this child was clearly from God and that I could trust him no matter what pregnancy or its aftermath brought my way. Day after day I prayed. Although I had some nasty respiratory infections and some bad morning sickness the hyperemesis and all its ill effects never came. And I praised and thanked God. I praised God for giving me this healthy bundle of joy. Although, the thought of having two children so close together was a little scary I had a peace because God was with me and a resolve because God calls children a blessing from Him even if our world puts so little value on them. At 14 weeks I began to feel my little one roll, kick, and dance. He mostly rolled though. It was this odd rolling movement that made me wonder even more if a strange motherly intuition I had since the morning I took the pregnancy test might have some validity. I had a feeling, a sense, that this child was not normal. I did not fear it, or fight it, or give it more credit than being anything more than "a silly pregnancy thing". If by some crazy chance or motherly intuition it was true that my baby had a birth defect I would be happy to have my child. I loved my baby “normal” or “not”. That is where I left that feeling until he started to move.

As the second trimester got into gear I began to slowly start the process of preparing for a baby coming home. I began making lists of recipes to cook and freeze in the month before delivery. I started shopping and bought a co-sleeper at a bargain price and ordered a crib and mattress online. One Saturday I beat out a bunch of grandmothers for the first picks at garage sales and bought an entire baby boy wardrobe (newborn-12 months) for 65 dollars. I spent extra time with Addie knowing that her days as an only child were numbered.

Complications

It was at 16 weeks that my first true pregnancy complication arose. Although I had tremendous bleeding issues during Addie's pregnancy I had not with Kuyper. After a 13 hour day at work followed by a long community group meeting at our house on a Monday, I began bleeding the next morning. As I went in for an urgent ultrasound my eyes welled up with tears but I resolved to not cry or mourn because I had seen beyond hope God save my baby girl and this was not beyond hope. Jon met me in the ultrasound waiting room. We walked into a dark cool room that I had become very well acquainted with in our short marriage. Oh sweet relief when I saw my baby moving around on the ultrasound with a beautiful steady heartbeat. I went home and collapsed in complete physical and emotional exhaustion and thanked God for my babies and my husband.

Although, God continued to provide for my every physical, emotional, and spiritual need, I found it hard to trust in His purposes as Jon interviewed the next week for a position out of state. I was dizzy from all the happenings and overwhelmed since in the weeks following my first bleeding incident many more started to arise. The Doctor had determined that I had placenta previa which was slowly making its way up my uterus as it continued to expand and eventually they began to call it a low lying placenta. I had numerous ultrasounds and Doctors visits during this time. All the while the Doctor became less concerned as I moved into “less dangerous territory” and my bleeding became less frequent.

It had been seven weeks since my first instance of bleeding and a little over a week since I last bled. I had an appointment with the Doctor and he seemed positive about the pregnancy. I told him about the odd rolling movements, the contractions that had started up a week earlier, and some fainting I had experienced. It seemed to add up to a lot of nothing but just to be sure the Doctor had me go in for another ultrasound a few days later to check my cervix and make sure that it was not dilating.

Headed the Right Direction

Thursday afternoon was the day of the ultrasound. Everything looked perfect and my sweet little man was sucking his thumb. This was the first time I had really seen him moving around a lot on an ultrasound. Watching him warmed my heart. I was cleared for normal activity. My baby and I were healthy and on our way to a good remaining pregnancy or so I thought.

Something Is Not Right

Friday went just as usual. Saturday morning did as well, but by Saturday night I was starting to wonder if Kuyper would be waking up for his daily dance party as I sang Addie to sleep. As I did every night, I sang "Before the Throne of God Above" and "You Are My Sunshine" as I held Addie and rubbed my stomach. At one point I felt something that might have been him moving. I will never be certain. Sunday was a busy and happy day filled with church, a community group leaders meeting, and a date at the movies. That night while at Star Trek, I waited and waited for Kuyper to wake up and roll around, kick, or give me some indication that he was there but all I felt was a dead weight in my stomach that I had never felt before. I was concerned but determined to not panic unnecessarily and so Jon and I decided that if there had been no movement by morning that I would go up to OB before work the next morning. Morning came and no movement. As I stood in front of the sink brushing my teeth I was reminded of a time during my college years when I foresaw the terrible future coming towards me and remembered thinking that it was the worst thing that could happen. And recalling the moments that followed, when I knew the terrible thing had come true and I then realized, "the worst has happened and I'm still here". It was such an odd thing to remember as I stood half asleep in my bathroom. And so I prayed. I prayed that God would bring my children to adulthood just like I had prayed many time before, starting with the day I knew I was pregnant with him. I put on my scrubs for work and headed up to OB.

Once on OB I was taken to a room with a fetal heart monitor and a doppler. First the nurse, Daisy, tried the fetal heart monitor but with no success. She reassured me that it can be difficult to find a heart beat on this type of monitor even in a full term baby. Next she tried the doppler. She tried for about twenty minutes and then went to find another nurse. While she was gone I called my husband and charge nurse to fill them in on what was happening. As I was getting off the phone in walked my mother-in-law, Vickie, who had heard about the news from my charge nurse. I was nervous to have someone in the room with me. I did not want to cry unless I knew for sure what was wrong and having someone else there made it harder to keep my cool. It had been a devastatingly painful wait but finally in walked the other nurse. For the next ten minutes she also used the fetal heart monitor and doppler to look for the heart beat. No such luck! Reality began to sink in as Daisy explained that they would be calling the Doctor to get an order for an ultrasound.

Some time after Daisy left the room in walked three ultrasound techs. They had me lay back and put the cool gel on my very pregnant belly. Vickie began crying because she did not see the baby moving on the screen. Although, I could not see the screen from my vantage point I could see the solemn faces of ultrasound techs. As the techs began to clean up they told me that I would be given further information after the Doctor had been given the report. Jon walked in at that moment. I explained to Jon what the nurses had done and what we had seen on the faces of the ultrasound techs. I tried to give him and myself some hope by reminding him of the night we thought we had lost Addie. I had awoke that night in a large pool of blood and although the entire situation was terrifying she was just fine. So we tried to remain calm and hope.

The News

Minutes after the ultrasound tech had left the room in walked the Doctor. Holding on to the last little bit of hope but knowing there probably was not any I waited for him to speak. "So what do you think?" he asked. A little confused I said "We are just trying to not freak out until we have reason to". "The pregnancy isn't going to continue" he said "There isn't a heartbeat". Just then Daisy piped in "They hadn't been told. We were waiting on you". With a look of horror on his face he apologized "I am sorry. I didn't realize. I didn't want you to find out that way". As he continued to speak the tears that had been held back the last two hours began to flow and the only thing that ran through my mind was "It is well, it is well with my soul". The Doctor gave us two options: go home for a day and then come back to be induced or stay and be induced right away. Horrified by the thought of having to prolong my emotional pain any longer and by the thought of scarring my very young daughter with the tears that at this point would not stop flowing I chose to stay and be induced that day.

After making some calls to our insurance and a few family members Daisy moved us to a birthing suite. Once in the room I removed my scrubs and put on a hospital gown. I was no longer an expectant mother coming into work to take care of patients. I was instead a patient mourning the loss of her child.

Throughout the day God showed us countless blessings. Addie's pediatrician came in to see how we were doing after he heard what was going on. Daisy’s smile and kindness made a nearly unbearable experience just a little bit more bearable. Lisa my co-worker came up to the room and prayed with and encouraged us by letting us know that we were not alone and that although the pain was unbearable now that with months and years the pain would begin to fade. Lisa had lost a baby at seven months gestation. Nancy my charge nurse came to the room and gave us both hugs and let us know that we were loved. Vickie came in and out that day as she ran between our room and the OR. My mom, Toni, dropped everything and started the 5 hour drive to come be with us.

The Induction

The induction was started at around 10:00 a.m. Two small tablets were put next to my cervix in order to open it. I was told that the induction may take quite a bit longer than my first delivery which was 12 hours long. With that in mind Jon and I settled in as the contractions began.

As the contractions came and went we discussed the only thing we could at that point. What to name our baby boy. Just days earlier we had started to settle on Kuyper (pronounced Kyper) and now it seemed it would not be right to name him anything else. We had not been able to decide on a middle name up until that point but now Jerry after my Father seemed appropriate, especially after the 3D ultrasound a few weeks earlier. He was a lanky little boy and from the ultrasound looked so much like my father.

Jon left the hospital briefly to get my sweat pants and a book that we owned about Abraham Kuyper, our son's name sake. That half hour was the loneliest I felt all that week. As I sat in the delivery room the pain and sorrow of my sons death washed over me and I tried in vain to sleep. Jon and Daisy returned to the room around the same time. Daisy hooked up fluids and Jon pulled out the book about Abraham Kuyper and began reading. As time passed I realized our community group would be coming over to our house that night if I didn't let them in on what was going on. I texted our group letting them know that I had lost the baby and that there would be no community group until further notice. As I was receiving messages of condolences, I also received a text from Walmart saying Kuyper's crib had come in that day and was ready for pick up. My heart sank. But as broken and tired as I was I had a hope and a peace that I could not fully explain if I tried. This hope and peace came from deep inside the heart of God. It was the Holy Spirit comforting my soul as promised in the Bible. Those moments were a glimpse of heaven; a glimpse of God's eternal love, rest, and peace. A glimpse of a world where all tears have been dried and a world where there is no loneliness. How could I even in that moment wish my son back to this painful and cursed world. He was in perfection. He had met the God I long to better know.

The contractions became more and more intense as time passed. The nurse would try to check my cervix without any luck. As I went into transitional labor my back began to feel as though an angry little alien was trying to escape through it. My contractions felt more and more like the worst period cramps imaginable but yet somehow entirely unimaginable. The pain was so intense my entire body shook from it. I gripped the bed screaming and crying. All I could muster to tell the nurse was that I wanted a cheeseburger after all this was over. The pain was cathartic, letting me act on the outside how I felt on the inside. The pain became even more intense and I screamed and cried even louder. Jon was restlessly pacing the room. Vickie sat at the head of the bed and stroked my arm softly undeterred by my carrying on. Then the pain began to release as his head crowned. The nurse called the Doctor as I laid back and closed my eyes. I was exhausted but I was almost done.

The Delivery

I lay there half asleep in exhaustion. I could hardly believe that when the day had began everything was "alright". Now I was delivering my dead son. And yet, he was still there in body. I would still get to look on the face of the beautiful little creature who had lit up my world for six glorious months. Then I heard the Doctor's voice as he came into the room. He began washing his hands and preparing for the delivery. Just then Daisy asked "has your water broke?" I thought about it for a minute "I don't think so". Daisy helped me up into a better position for delivery and then the Doctor told me to push. Well I pushed and I pushed for what seemed a very long time but I was getting no where. The Doctor had me rest for a minute. As my body relaxed I felt Kuyper's head coming down. "He's coming!" I alerted the Doctor and nurses who were turned away. "Are you pushing?" someone asked. "No!" I replied. Within moments the Doctor had guided Kuyper, his intact amniotic sac, and the placenta out all at once. I began to cry. Jon took my hand, I turned my face toward him, and we wept for our sweet boy who never took his first breath. The Doctor took Kuyper and the amniotic sac to a sterile table to cut him out of it and clamp his umbilical cord. I could hear him telling the nurses that Kuyper was delivered "en caul" which mean in the unbroken amniotic sac. I remembered from my days in nursing school what a rare and beautiful thing it was to deliver a baby this way. As the nurses were wiping off Kuyper the Doctor turned his attention to me. With tears welling up in his eyes he looked at me and said "I want you to know that this was not your fault. There was nothing that you could have done. If you would have come in a few days ago the result would have been the same". I am not sure if I responded. I probably just nodded my head.

Meeting Kuyper

I was so tired and weak. A blood pressure cuff kept tightening on my arm. Then I sat up and they placed my baby in my arms. How sad and lifeless he was but somehow so beautiful too. His little features were so sweet. His tiny ears were too tiny for him but that was my fault. His hands and feet were so big. His arms and legs were muscular and lean. His sweet little tongue and mouth were beautiful and his nose was his daddies. His skin was so fragile. The nurse measured and weighed him: 1 pound 4oz and 14" long. He had all the makings of being a very big boy.

I was becoming very shaky so the nurses brought me my lunch which I had intended to eat at work that day. After downing my enchiladas the world seemed a lot clearer and the nurse who was now taking my blood pressure, yet again, said "Well, it looks like you just really needed to eat". It was then that I looked up at the clock. It was 6:00. Kuyper had been delivered a half hour earlier. His labor and delivery took seven and a half hours. Seven and a half hours of pain and tears that I would not trade for anything. Just like mothers of living babies would not trade their suffering for anything because it brought them their bundle of joy. I too would not trade my pain for anything because it gave me a chance to hold my child in my arms, even if for a short time and the chance to give him a proper burial. I would do it all again because I love him.

The next five hours were a blur. My mom showed up around 6:15 p.m. exhausted from her long day of driving. She came in and gave me a hug. She must have thought that I was still early on in labor because she didn't notice the baby wrapped in the blanket that lay between my crossed legs as I sat up in the bed. When she saw him, her eyes welled up and she asked to hold him. Throughout the course of the evening Jon, Vickie, my mom, and I took turns holding and rocking sweet Kuyper. We talked about his name and who he looked like. We cried mostly. And in between our sobs we would try to speak words of encouragement to each other. Eventually after eating my weight in enchiladas, hospital food, and cookies the nurse helped me get out of bed so I could put on my sweat pants and grey pj shirt. I looked down at my now flabby, post-partum belly. I could hardly comprehend that I was no longer pregnant. I could have sworn I felt him moving but it was just my uterus contracting.

Singing Goodbye

I had told the nurse to come and get Kuyper at 9:30 p.m. but 9:30 came and went and I just couldn't give him up. Every motherly instinct in me told me to hold him, protect him, and to never let him go. How could I ever do the impossible? As time passed we continued to take pictures, and to hold and rock him. The nurse came got his hand prints and foot prints. All of us were physically and emotionally worn out. A little before 10:30 we got out a video camera and I sang my sweet baby boy to eternal sleep. "Before the Throne of God Above" and "You are My Sunshine" came out in squeaks and sobs. Then we put on the call light for the nurse. Wrapped in a blanket I handed her my little boy. Jon held me close and tight. I can't explain the pain in that moment. I have felt no greater physical or emotional pain in all my life. It was more than I could bear but I had to. The nurse walked out of the room and Kuyper was gone.

The Emptiest of Nights

After the nurse took Kuyper away Jon went home to stay with our little girl. My mom stayed at the hospital with me that night. It had been raining all day but now it was coming down so hard that I thought it would break the windows. The night nurse came in and told me that they would be moving me to one of the post part-um rooms. One that was far away from crying babies. I didn't care at that point though. I was far too spent. I just prayed the same prayer that I had several times earlier that day as I walked to my new room past the nursery. I prayed that no one I knew would have to endure this pain. Looking back I realize now that even though I could do nothing to make my own situation better it gave me comfort to know I could cry out to God and plead for others. As I settled into the new room the night nurse reassured me that if I couldn't sleep that would be normal. I did not foresee that being a problem. I was so tired; and the rain coming down on the building had a lulling affect. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and then snuggled in under the warm covers.

Just a Nightmare?

As the rain calmed my plagued mind I drifted off into a deep sleep. The next morning came early as it always does in hospitals. Waking, I hoped that the previous day's events had all been a bad dream but there I was in a hospital bed and I knew it was real life. I walked into the bathroom and was stunned at the sight. My face and eyes were puffy and distorted from all the crying.
I went back to the bed and within the next five minutes both my regular OBGYN and his partner who had delivered Kuyper the night before walked in to check on me. They both asked me how I was. "Horrible" I told them. Could I possibly be any other way at such a time? But they were trying to be kind and for that I will forever be appreciative.

Personified Papers

The morning just like the previous day was filled with plenty of tears. The nurse told me I could stay and sleep awhile if I needed. I had been blessed with a good night's sleep and told her I would like to leave as soon as possible. The hospital provided Jon and I with a blue baby book which had information wrote in it about Kuyper's height, weight, what time he "went to be with the angels", etc. As my mom and I looked through this book crying, the nurse came in to go through the discharge instructions. They were pretty typical post part-um instructions with two exceptions. The first was, although they wanted to see me at the usual four week post part-um mark, they also wanted me to come in one week after delivery. The doctor was worried about how I would do mentally and I can't blame him. The second thing was one that I noticed on the papers but was not pointed out to me. The paper read "to be discharged with no babies". How painful and ugly those little words were. They sat on the page tormenting me. Taunting me! "Did you know? Did you know your son is dead? Did you know that instead of leaving this hospital with your baby you will leave here with empty arms." I couldn't look at those words. They became personified in my mind the more I stared at them. So I payed attention once again to the nurse.

Going Home

A few minutes later she came to the door with a wheelchair. I sat down, about to face a world that did not understand my pain. As she rolled me out into the hall I heard laughter and saw a doctor and some nurses I recognized. As I rolled past them with tears streaming down my face, I hoped that they did not notice me but I think they did. The nurse told me that these kind of things always come in three. I hoped she was wrong. "No one else should have to endure this kind of pain" I thought. She seemed very distressed by my loss and more than likely by the many other losses she had witnessed. My mother pulled her car around to the main entrance of the hospital. As we pulled away I was relieved that my nightmare was over but I knew in many ways it had just begun.

The After

The next week was full of tears, condolences, and lots of decisions. Jon and I decided to bury instead of cremate. It was very important to us that we have a proper burial and service. I delivered Kuyper Monday night and by Friday morning everything was arranged for his graveside service. Many friends and family showed up that day. The day was beautiful and sunny. A few chairs had been set up. Within an arms reach of the first row was my baby boy's tiny casket. It was closed. An autopsy had been performed a few days earlier. I felt so helpless in that moment as I looked at the grave site. How could this be? It was my job to protect him. How could I ever let this come to pass? People kept talking to me but I was in my own little world. Our pastor came up to me and gave me a hug. He told me that we were going to be starting. Pastor Steve greeted everyone and then started out by reading from Psalm 139. He talked for about ten minutes. There is one thing that he said that I will never forget. It was an echo of what Jon's sister Veronica had said only the night before. "Do you realize that Kuyper only ever knew love? He never had to endure loneliness, disappointment, or suffering like we do. All he knew was Ann-Marie and Jon's love when he was alive and now all he knows is God's love." Pastor Steve went on but my soul rested there in the hope of those words. After Pastor Steve spoke Jon got up and said a few words. He explained the hope we had in Christ despite Kuyper's loss and why we decided on his name. After Jon spoke my friend Lori read a poem that was written by my great grandmother after the death of her eight year old son Jonny.

Little Jonny

Is he close to your breast, Gentle Jesus,

And by wondrous Celestial Grace,

Have you taught his lips once more to smile

And erased the pain from his face?

He is so small to be away

Lord lead him by the hand

When you walk by 'The Still Water'

Upon the Heavenly Strand.

Was he taken from us Father

So our unseeing eyes might see

A beckoning hand,

A radiant face,

And a glimpse of Eternity?

by Margaret Hogsed

The service was concluded as we sang the hymn "Before the Throne of God Above". James played guitar and his wife Kristin lead the small congregation. "Before the throne of God Above" had been a ray of hope during so many good and bad times. We sang it at Jon and I's wedding, during many sleepless nights with Adelina, every night at bedtime, and now at Kuyper's funeral.

”When Satan tempts me to DESPAIR

And tells me of the guilt within

Upward I look AND SEE HIM THERE

Who made an end to all my sin”

As we sang those words Little A, who was sitting at the back with Aunt Anne perked up and began to look for Jon and I.

When the service was over and most everyone had left. The family started getting ready to leave for lunch. Something in me could not leave. Just like a mother would not leave her child on the corner of the block but would instead take them all the way to the babysitters house, I could not leave until Kuyper was buried safely in the ground. My mother and others did not want me to see him put in the ground for fear that it would be "too traumatic". It was not. As the last bit of dirt and sod was put on the grave I felt a sense of relief. Now I knew where he was. Now I could rest because he was where he needed to be.