Showing posts with label birth story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth story. Show all posts

Thursday, November 17, 2016

INSPIRING WOMAN {Kendra Leavitt}

Meet Kendra, 


she is this months inspiring woman. Her story is near and dear to my heart. Watching my sister go through infertility and the adoption process changed me. It brought sadness but then incredible amounts of happiness. Now going through infertility myself I truly understand the heartache it brings to your world. Kendra's story is one of hope, and it is truly beautiful.



In life, there are fewer things more disappointing than plans not working out.  Failure for a plan to develop leads to annoyance, which can lead to despair.  How many phrases are dedicated to help allay the feelings of disappointment?  “You have to roll with the punches,” “it’s always darkest before dawn,” “when God closes a door, he opens a window.”  You know how sometimes when you repeat a word in your head over and over again, the word begins to lose its meaning?  I feel like it’s the same way with some of these phrases.  Over the past three years, my husband, Ian, and I have been on a journey filled with consistent optimism, but staggered by heartbreak.  Long days of hard work and faith followed often by tears and doubt.  We had amazing support from family and great friends; we were also lied to and cruelly manipulated.  Through these three years, Ian and I have walked through fire together.  We lost nearly all semblances of personal space and privacy; we worked through hundreds of pages of paperwork and legal pulp; we drove thousands of miles, spent thousands of dollars, all for the chance at turning the hope people kept telling us to keep into a reality.  It was in the middle of nowhere, on a hot June night, where we finally found our seven pound miracle.  I am writing this story not for pity or to commiserate, but to expound on and rejoice in the one thing that kept us going throughout all our setbacks: hope.  


It began in college, living in duplexes behind an Albertson’s grocery store.  I lived with three other girls, about a five minute drive from the campus of Southern Utah University.  I was only eighteen, and in my first year away from home.  Next door lived a group of four boys, and we all quickly became friends.  One of them was Ian Leavitt, who was a bit shy and reserved, but very sweet.  It was clear early on that he liked me, and I’m not ashamed to say that I took advantage of his crush.  He’d help me with homework, car trouble, or just bring me something I was craving.  Perhaps most nobly, he moved my harp to and from concerts, without complaint. I soon realized that I had developed feelings for him too, and we decided to spend as much time together as possible. On September 11, 2010 we were married for time and all eternity in the Manti Temple. It is my favorite temple. It’s like a castle, and all girls are princesses. 

After a whirlwind wedding, we moved into a small apartment in central Cedar City.  It was on the bottom floor, in the back of an old building. Natural light was scarce, and at times the place felt like a cave.  We didn’t want children right away since we were both still in school and only working part time.  Children weren’t allowed in our apartment anyway, so we had no choice but to wait.  When I graduated in May 2013, we started thinking about starting our family.  Our apartment started to seem too small, so we decided to begin searching for a home.  We were lucky enough to find a house in a great neighborhood where we could finally start our family.  


Ian and I had been living in our cute home in Cedar City for about six months. We were hoping to fill it with children.  It seemed like so many people I knew were able to get pregnant the instant they decided to have children.  Surprise pregnancies also seemed frequent.  So when a few months passed by, and I still wasn't pregnant, I started to worry.  I went to see a gynecologist who had me tested for endometriosis.  Results were inconclusive, but he still thought that was the problem.  I had really terrible cramps during my period, which seemed more severe than other women.  I was tested for everything under the sun, often enduring embarrassing and painful exams.  I figured it was worth it if I could be able to have children. 

Since I showed no signs of infertility, our doctor suggested that Ian be tested. His testing was consisted of one test, which made me jealous.  Ian didn’t have to be poked and prodded. From the test, we learned that there was no problems with Ian’s sperm count, and the sperm’s mobility was also fine. The problem was in the morphology of the sperm.  In other words, the sperm were shaped in such a way that it was difficult for them to move correctly, which made it difficult to reach my eggs.
It all seemed to make sense! It’s amazing how simply finding the reason behind a problem can give you hope.  Our doctor assured us that although conditions were not perfect for conception, there was still a good chance that we could still have a baby.  With the new information, our doctor recommended that we try a few rounds of IUI (intrauterine insemination). An IUI is a procedure where the doctor takes the sperm and puts it in a centrifuge in order to isolate the sperm cells.  He then takes the sperm cells and, using a giant syringe, inserts the sperm into the uterus.  This needs to be done at a very specific point in a woman’s menstrual cycle. This puts the sperm in a position to go where they need to go, which was especially helpful in our situation. 


Ian and I were very careful in following the steps leading up to the procedure.  On the 16th day of my cycle, we had to go and pick up a sterile specimen cup from the doctor.  We would then set an appointment for the procedure.  One of the stranger things about the IUI is that we needed to collect the sperm specimen before we came into the doctor’s office.  It was a little uncomfortable at first for Ian to have to do this, but we just had to remind ourselves of our final goal.  After we had the sample, we would carefully drive to the doctor, where the whole thing could come together.  We tried this procedure three times.  We followed the directions given to us extremely closely, making sure to get every small detail perfect.  It never worked.  

At this point, Ian and I learned valuable lessons in how to react to difficult news.  By all accounts, the IUIs should have worked, as there was nothing too misaligned to prevent us from having children biologically.  Yet here we still were, childless, and running out of options.  This was a very difficult time, especially for Ian.  We both struggled with feeling inadequate, but it was hard for Ian not to blame himself.  We learned to rely upon each other’s strengths, and we took turns with one feeling down, and the other being the motivator.  It was during this time that Ian and I realized we had decisions to make. We had heard options about In Vitro Fertilization, and were encouraged by some of the success stories.  We also knew that uncertainty still would be present with IVF.  Additionally, the procedures would be even more expensive and invasive than our previous IUIs.  Our other option would be to adopt a baby, which would be more a sure thing than IVF, but would open up a unique set of challenges.


At a funeral for Ian’s cousin’s miscarried baby, I had the prompting that adoption was what we were meant to do. I told Ian of my prompting, but assured him that if he wanted to try IVF first that I would support him. Ian took a few months to ponder. Ian has always been more analytical and less spontaneous than I am.  I guess that’s why we fit together so well.

Later that year, we attended a sealing for another cousin to his wife and son in the St. George Temple.  Again, I got a strong feeling that we should adopt. If I wasn’t meant to feel my child growing inside, me then I wanted to experience personally what this darling family was experiencing. Again, I told Ian of my prompting. He surprised me when he quickly said, “Let’s do it.”


I’m not exaggerating when I say we started researching how to adopt the next day.  I’m the kind of person that when something gets on my mind, I want to get it all taken care of as quickly as possible.  I read all the content I could from any website and testimonial I could, and I hassled Ian to do the same. At the end of November 2015 we announced that we were on our way to St. George to start our new adventure. 

The first step in any adoption is to complete a home study.  Most adoption agencies won’t even begin to work with you unless your homestudy is complete and valid.  In order to complete a home study, you have to work with a licensed social worker.  We were lucky enough to have an extremely nice and capable social worker named Jill Valentine very near to us.  Ian called to set up an appointment to get things started.  That first meeting with our social worker was emotional. I wasn’t prepared for it. She asked very personal questions to get to know and assess us. We must have said something right, because it was obvious that she made us a priority.  She helped us finish our home study by February of 2016 and by March we had an adoption profile with adoption.com. I also started working with a wonderful woman with Heart and Soul Adoption Agency. She would let me know when there were birth mothers looking for families to place their children. 


Over the next few months, I did everything I could to stay in the adoption network.  Whenever I found out a birth mother was searching for a couple, Ian and I would discuss about whether or not we should pursue.  We were active in sending our home study and information to multiple mothers, hoping that we would be the ones they trusted with their baby.  Unfortunately, we did not have much success.  Several times, we would hear that the mother chose another family, or that they were not interested in us.  This was difficult to understand at first, but sometimes you just have to accept a problem without an explanation.  This was a very big decision for the birth mothers, so everything had to be perfect for them.

May 19th, 2016 began as a day just like any other.  Ian was at work when I got a phone call from Rachel, our adoption rep.  She told me that one of the mothers we had given our information to wanted to speak with us that night.  This had never happened to us before.  We didn’t know what to expect.  That evening, Ian and I sat together and waited for the phone to ring.  After what seemed like hours, we finally got to speak with the mother, and after a few minutes of conversation, she informed us that she had chosen to place her baby with us!. That was such an emotional and exciting day. We had never gotten this far! The birth mother was due September 22nd with a baby boy. We already had a name chosen, Henry, and I quickly fixed up our guest room so that it would be his nursery.  With a lot of help from family and friends, we were able to transform our home to be baby ready.
Of course, that happiness was short lived. About a month later, we were having a hard time communicating with our birth mother.  I had become pretty good friends with her, and was texting her back and forth for a few weeks after we matched.  When she started to not respond to my texts, I became worried.  Ian told me not to worry, as she was probably busy, or lost her phone.  That did little to help me, and my worries continued.  My fears were heightened when the adoption agency asked me if I had heard from the mother at all.   It turns out nobody knew where she was, and she wasn’t responding to anyone’s attempts to locate her.  I worried myself sick, as Ian did his best to stay positive.  When we finally did restore contact with her, I would soon wish that she stayed silent.  Things started getting very strange.  She even informed us that the baby was a girl and that the baby would be born in October rather than September.  This was our first indication that things may not be as they seemed a few weeks before.


Our adoption agency prepared an apartment for the mother to live in, rent free, so she could live close to medical care during her pregnancy.  The only stipulation was that she needed to travel from California to Utah, and the apartment would be hers.  For the birth mother, it seemed like everything that could have gone wrong went wrong in her attempts to get to Utah.  Her car would break down, she would need to stay in a hotel, she needed to go the doctor, etc.  One thing after another.  For each of these issues, she would always ask for money.  After a while, her stories would start to contradict each other, saying she was in California one minute, and Mesquite, Nevada the next.  She told us once that she was living in her broken down car in Mesquite, never mind the fact that it was 120 degrees in Mesquite, and no pregnant woman would ever resort to that.  After weeks of back and forth we came to the conclusion that she was lying to us, and she likely couldn’t be trusted.
Together, we and our agency decided that if our birth mother would move closer to the agency in order to give birth to the baby, then we would still adopt her baby. She made it more than half way. More bad communication. More lies. For the sake of moving on with the story, our birth mother did not make it to the desired destination. 

Ian and I were heartbroken. I prayed, searched the scriptures, and cried my soul dry.  Ian stayed strong, but I could tell he was empty.  We rarely talked, and mostly stayed home.  I couldn’t understand why this was happening. How this was happening. We were so close, and all our hard work looked like it was paying off, just to be shattered right in front of us.  It felt like we would never recover from this one.  It felt that way until Monday, June 20.


Ian, his sister, his sister’s husband, Ian’s mom, and I were sitting at Ian’s grandpa’s home talking about how we were planning to match with another mom. We had no idea about the timetable, we just decided that it would be easiest to move on, any way we could.  We had been ranting about our failed birth mother, which helped, but was probably not the nicest thing to do.  Maybe a few hours later, I received the text that would change our lives.  It was Rachel, our adoption rep, and she told me that a baby girl was born the day before in a small town in Western Kansas, and that if we could get there by tomorrow, she could be ours. My heart starting racing! This was it, I knew it immediately.  Soon after, we received a call from Rachel, giving us more info on the baby and her birth family. 
I knew right away that this was our future.  This was our baby, and we had to get home to pack.  Ian was more cautious.  He says it was the shock of things happening so fast, but I know he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not this baby was meant for us.  We decided to do what we had been taught to do whenever we faced a tough decision: pray. Ian led the prayer, asking if this was the baby meant for us.  I knew the answer as soon as Ian began crying.  Ian is a very emotional person, but he rarely cries, so I knew this was a special circumstance. When I asked him what he felt he said, “I guess we better go buy a ticket to Kansas, because this little girl needs us.” We quickly made travel arrangements, tried to sleep for a few hours, but failed miserably.  We woke up the next morning, showered, and were on our way. I could hardly focus. I was going to hold my baby. My baby. Our baby. 

We began at around 4:30 am, drove to catch a shuttle in St. George, took the shuttle to Las Vegas, and caught a flight to Wichita.  After getting to Kansas, we still had to make the four hour drive from Wichita to Liberal.  We rented a car and began the long drive.  Driving in Kansas is a lesson in patience itself, as there is absolutely nothing to see.  It’s flat and yellow.  When we finally pulled into Liberal, we were exhausted to say the least. Not only were we traveling, but we were also trying to take care of the legal side of the adoption and stay in contact with our family all the while. It was a long day. It was worth it.

After buying a car seat, we finally made it to Southwest Medical Center where our baby girl was waiting for us. It’s a small hospital, so we found the room easily. We asked a nurse if we could go in. The nurse checked with the birth parents and we were then allowed to see our baby girl.
I thought for sure I’d cry. It seemed like I had been waiting for this forever. It’s still hard for me not to tear up when I think about it, but at that moment all I could do was stare in wonderment. She was beautiful. So much black hair! Perfectly content in her birth daddy’s arms. Birth mom was sitting on the hospital bed enjoying the quiet scene.


I can’t remember too many specifics other than Ian quietly asking, “Is this her?” I mumbled something about her being beautiful, and then birth daddy was putting Isabel into her new daddy’s arms. I just kept staring. The mother had already named the baby, and asked if we would be keeping the name.  We said that we weren’t sure, which wasn’t completely true.  We had a name picked out from even before we were married.  In that hospital in Nowhere, Kansas, I was finally holding Isabel Marie.

Ian being the sweetheart he is, held Isabel for only a few seconds before he asked if I wanted to hold her. As I held her the five of us started to get to know each other. It was a reverent moment that I will never forget.  I felt right away the love for this little girl. She just slept.  I stood in the presence of this sweet little baby, and felt so much gratitude for so many people.  
Maybe twenty minutes passed when birth mom suggested that Ian and I have some alone time with baby girl. We had a wonderful half hour with our sweet girl. I started sending photos to and talking to my family through Skype. I couldn’t stop looking at her! 

Our plan was to pick her up from the hospital and take her to a nearby hotel to wait for more information from our agency and our lawyer.  Ian and I arrived to the hospital too late to take her with us, but the nurses asked us to spend the night with baby girl. I was so happy! I kept telling Ian that I wasn’t leaving her.

The following day was long. There were a lot of legal details to take care of. Isabel’s social worker, who was an incredibly sweet and helpful lady, stayed for a few hours to ensure that Isabel came home with us. There was a lot of paperwork needed for both us and the birth mother, and we ended up spending almost the entire day in the hospital. 

After the fiasco of the alarm going off (and the elevators not working) due to improper removal of Isabel’s foot tracker, we were headed home. It was around 10:00 at this point, and it had been as exhausting a day as the day before. One of the nurses helped us down to our rental car to make sure that everything was okay with our car seat. Before we said goodbye, the nurse told us that she and the other nurses had a strong attachment to our little baby, and were so happy that we were able to take her.  She started crying as she asked if she could say one more goodbye to the baby.  It was then I knew that Isabel would be a special sweet spirit.


It might seem that our story is finished, but there’s still a little more. We now were waiting in Liberal, Kansas for one of two things: there was one other potential birth father who needed to sign away his paternal rights so we could finalize the adoption in Kansas.  The other option was to wait for the Interstate Compact. The Interstate Compact is an agreement between two states (in this case, Utah and Kansas) allowing the family and adopted baby to travel home. 

Initially we wanted the Interstate Compact so that we could finalize with family in Utah. We’d have to wait six months before we could finalize, but it sounded like a happy moment that we wanted to share with everyone.  The longer we waited the more we realized that not only would it be quicker for the birth father to sign, it would also mean that Isabel would be legally ours sooner.  No more waiting. No more worrying. We changed our minds. We started working toward birth dad signing.  We wanted to get home.

We were in contact with our attorney and agency the entire week. Yes, we were in Kansas a whole week. It was the longest week of our lives. We tried to make the best of it, but there are only so many things you can do in Kansas with a newborn baby.  After, a couple days in Liberal we were told to go back to Wichita, where the finalization would take place. It’s also a bigger city so we felt less stuck.  We saw that sights of Wichita, including the first ever Pizza Hut, which was really exciting for Ian.  Turns out it’s only a small house on the campus of Wichita State University, and they don’t even serve pizza there anymore.  

Anyway, the weekend passed and still no signature, so we sent paperwork for the Interstate Compact. We were able to attend church that Sunday, and were overwhelmed with the kindness of the members in Kansas.  There truly are good people all around the world.  Monday morning came and with it a happy call from our attorney that he had received birth dad’s signature. Our attorney was so amazing. He had scheduled a court meeting with the judge on that same day, hoping that we could get everything taken care of. We met with Judge Rumsey for maybe ten minutes, waited around a few hours for the paperwork to go through and were finally given the all clear to return home.  
We didn't leave until about 2:00 in the afternoon. Because Isabel was so little, we were not able to fly with her, so we rented a minivan, and trucked it west toward Utah.  Ian fell in love with the minivan, saying that it was like driving a couch.  We made it to Colorado Monday night, slept at the Holiday Inn, and made it the rest of the way the next day.  Isabel is a born traveller! She mostly slept and only cried when she was hungry or when she forgot we were there. (It broke my heart to hear that cry). We pulled into our driveway in Cedar City at about 7:00 pm, and Ian’s mom was over about two minutes later. Our yard was in the process of being decorated and we soon had family and friends over to finally meet nine day old Isabel Marie. 


This journey has been so emotional, but I wouldn't have it any other way. We’ve been through such difficult trials, many of which I didn’t know we could overcome.  We have met some amazing people along the way who have helped in indescribable ways.  We continue to get so much support and love from friends, family, and neighbors.  These people have forever changed us.  Through this experience, Ian and I have grown closer not only to each other, but to Heavenly Father as well.  The adversity we faced seems like nothing now that we have our miracle. We are so happy.  Isabel Marie Leavitt is our greatest adventure.


Tuesday, May 31, 2016

INSPIRING WOMEN {Skye Longhurst}

This months inspiring woman is Skye...


Her testimony of God and His plan for each of us is undeniable. Her words have helped heal my heart and gave me hope that all will work out in the end. Skye is an amazing mama, wife, friend, and person. She is the first woman I have asked in person to share their story, her reaction to my question gave me an instant feeling of peace. I knew she was supposed be May's inspiring woman. She was so humble and so touched. It surprised me how surprised she was that I wanted her to share her story. She seriously has no idea how inspiring she really is. I am so grateful she was willing to share.  

Here is her story....

My name is Skye Longhurst. I’ve been married to the most wonderful man, Bracken for almost 11 years. We have four beautiful children we get to raise in this life, and two more who were only with us for a short time. Our two oldest children, Hayes and Kamri were relatively easy pregnancies. With Hayes I had some complications at first and learned I had a bicornuate uterus that makes me high risk for pre-term labor and placental abruption. The placenta did end up tearing at 38 weeks so he was delivered by C-section. Kamri’s pregnancy was smooth sailing until I was in the hospital, in labor, fully dilated and complete when the doctor checked me and the baby was breech. Kamri was delivered by C-section as well. Born 3 days before her due date, she was my largest baby at 8 lbs 13 oz. Although the complications at the time were scary, both of our children were healthy so we were not nervous when we decided to get pregnant with our third.

We moved to Las Vegas, NV when I was 14 weeks pregnant. Even though the decision to move had been done with a lot of prayer and I knew we were making the right choice, it was really hard for me. I often questioned why we had to leave a good job and a place and people we loved to move where we knew only a few people and Bracken would have no income because he was attending law school. One night, when I was 26 weeks along, I started bleeding. We called my dad’s cousin who was the only family we knew well in Las Vegas at the time. She came and stayed with our kids while we rushed to the hospital.

That night was full of a lot of pain and waiting. The specialist on call was trying to determine what was causing my bleeding and trying to get contractions to stop. They weren’t successful and my doctor came in (even though he wasn’t on call so the hospital never called him) and took over the situation. I’m not sure why it wasn’t obvious before that it was a placental abruption since I had that with Hayes and everything was pointing to it being the same. Our doctor sprang into action to help me deliver the baby, I pushed once, he gave me a numbing shot (which were super painful) then an episiotomy, (now grateful for the numbing shot) and I pushed once more. After one more push the doctor could see the baby’s face presentation was wrong and the baby’s heart rate was dipping. The baby’s little body couldn’t handle more stress so my doctor yelled for an emergency C-section. What happened next was a blur of movement, nurses throwing sheets, lifting me onto a wheeled bed, holding my arms and legs as they splashed me down with antiseptic solution. I was out in ten seconds as they rushed me down the hall. One minute pure panic, then nothing. Bracken was left alone in a room that looked like a crime scene, not knowing what would happen to me or our baby. Dane P was born Sunday, November 15, 2009 he was 2 lbs, 6 oz and 14 inches long.

Monday and Tuesday were full of visits to the NICU from my hospital room, updates from the nurses and doctors, and many visitors from people in our church and a couple we became friends with from law school. I was so grateful for every single visitor while Bracken was away at class. Most of them didn’t know me well but came and provided me comfort and a temporary distraction from all the stress. The doctors had told us that being born at 26 weeks Dane had an 80 % survival rate. It seemed like none of them were worried that he would die, just what minor setbacks we would have and what would be done to fix them. I was worried but truly felt peace from all the visitors, calls, text messages and prayers that were said on our behalf. Another tender mercy was one of the nurses who worked there was in my ward at church. I had only met her once before I got to the hospital, but she took care of me on one shift and made sure I had the best nurses for other shifts.

Wednesday morning the NICU called and the doctor wanted to meet with me and Bracken. A whole group of doctors and social workers came into our room and we knew it wouldn’t be good. We were given the news that ultimately our son wasn’t going to make it and we needed to prepare to say goodbye. The doctor was choking up as he told us the news, and I kept thinking that this can’t be real. One of those bad dreams. We talked to a second doctor the next morning and he unfortunately had the same conclusion.

Thursday night Bracken and I held our son for the first and last time. It was a tender mercy from our Heavenly Father that we were able to hold him as he passed away. It was the hardest thing, the worst thing, and yet the most amazing thing I had ever done. There is nothing to describe the mixture of utter heartbreak and complete peace that I felt. I know that my love is not perfect but the love I felt for Dane was so immense, I can only imagine how strong God’s perfect love is for all of us. As I sat there holding my baby as he took his last breaths, I was in despair but enveloped in pure love. November 19, 2009 was the day that cemented in my heart the importance and truth that families are eternal.

Two weeks later, I was sitting in church and we were singing hymn number 97, “Lead, Kindly Light.” The words struck me as I sang. The first sentence seemed to be my life the two weeks before, 'Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom..' There were days that I still felt gloomy but when I would think about all Heavenly Father has blessed me with and the experience of holding Dane, I felt His Light carrying me on.

Besides having lost a baby, I also grieved over life not going as Bracken and I had planned. It had seemed perfect, Hayes and Kamri were 21 months apart and I loved it. Kamri and Dane were going to be 21 months apart and now we didn’t even get to have him with us. Why couldn't it just go like I had planned, 'I loved to choose and see my path; but now, Lead thou me on!' but I started to realize (oh so slowly) that Heavenly Father does know what he's doing, he does love us, and we need to sit back and realize how little we can really control that happens in our lives. But oh how much HE cares for everyone. And even if life doesn't go how we planned it, we'll be better for it because it goes how He planned it.

About 9 months after we had baby Dane we felt like it was time to get pregnant again. When I was about 20 weeks pregnant I was hit with a bout of anxiety. In some ways, I had been in denial that anything bad could happen again and I suddenly realized that one loss didn’t negate the possibility of another. I was frozen in our rocking chair with fear when I had a sudden small prompting to study hope. I grabbed my scriptures and studied everything I could find about hope. I was filled with a feeling of peace. Even if things didn’t work out again, I could be filled with hope, that through Jesus Christ’s atonement and temple covenants we could be an eternal family.

I ended up on full bedrest at 26 weeks, although not ideal, we were grateful to keep our baby in there cooking! This pregnancy humbled me. I’m a very independent person but being on bedrest I had to have help with our two older kids. Bracken went to law school full time and would come home and take over everything I usually did. People we barely knew brought us meals. For two weeks, friends and acquaintances took turns taking my kids for the day while Bracken was at school. Family took my kids for a week at a time and finally one of my cousin’s sacrificed two months of her life to come live with us and care for my kids. I don’t see many of them on a daily basis anymore but I think of them often. The love that so many people showed my family I will never forget.

Our beautiful baby girl, Lyla Hope, was born 6 weeks early in April 2011. She was 5 lbs 1oz. Even though she was in the NICU for two weeks, none of it was for life threatening reasons. Her calm demeanor helped to heal our hearts. I’ll never forget the look on Hayes’ & Kamri’s faces when we finally brought her home to them. Pure love shone through their faces as they held this little baby sister they had waited and prayed so long for.

We had another beautiful baby boy, Hansen, join our family in February 2013. My pregnancy with him was similar to Lyla’s. Weekly shots, bi-weekly appointments, lots of praying and nervousness. I would lay down multiple times during the day to try and avoid full bedrest. Thankfully, this time around I was able to be up more. Hansen was born at 34 weeks as well, weighing 4 lbs 15 oz. He was also in the NICU for two weeks. We probably seemed a bit odd to the nurses since we were so calm about him being there. Hansen has the funniest personality. He spreads happiness to everyone he interacts with. I really believe that my children were born in the order and time they were for a reason. We would need Hansen’s cheerfulness for what was to come.

When Hansen was 4 months old we moved back to Cedar City where this story all started. As much as I hated Las Vegas when we moved there, I had come to love it and it was really hard to move away, even if it was moving to my hometown! From the time Hansen was a few months old I had this incessant feeling that I needed to decide what to do about more children in our family. Were we done, should we get pregnant again, should we do foster care and adopt? We spent a year and a half praying, discussing, and searching for what we should do. We met with a foster care recruiter and an OB/GYN doctor here in town to discuss different options hoping we’d find confirmation in what we should do. Through prayers and promptings from the Holy Ghost, Bracken and I individually came to know it was God’s will for us to get pregnant one more time and that this would be my last pregnancy.

As expected, this pregnancy was anything but easy. There were ups and downs from the beginning. One night the bleeding was so bad that I was sure I had miscarried. A doctor appointment the next week showed that miraculously there was still a heartbeat in my womb. I went through my weekly progesterone shots, bi-weekly appointments and at 18 weeks had a cerclage in hopes that a stitch would help strengthen my shortening cervix. After three weeks of bedrest, including missing out on our family vacation (Bracken is a rock star to take all four kids on his own!) I started having contractions. They were able to get the contractions to slow and labor wasn’t progressing so they determined I would be on bedrest for the rest of my pregnancy in the Saint George hospital. I was feeling much better and we were optimistic that I could handle a long hospital stay. Bracken headed back to Cedar to get my things I would need. About 10 minutes before he made it back to Saint George I started shaking and felt freezing cold. A nurse came in and took my temperature. I had a fever. They ran to get the doctor. Bracken came right as the doctors were discussing what to do. An amniocentesis was done and found that I had an infection in my uterus. The baby would have to be delivered.

Our tiny little girl, Naomi Faith, was delivered still at 6:22 p.m. on June 11, 2015. She was 15 oz and 11 inches long. As they handed her to me, I realized the sheer beauty of being able to deliver a baby and the baby being handed directly to you. It broke my heart that I was being handed a baby that would never breathe, who I would never get to know in this life; but the act of being able to deliver her was a tender mercy. I am grateful to have been able to experience that instead of having to have a sixth C-section. Her body was perfectly formed, beautiful nose, fingers, ears, legs, arms, toes, tongue, eyebrows, hair. It was all there in miniscule. I couldn’t stop looking at her and saying I’m so sorry, over and over. My body had let her down.

Heartbroken again, Bracken and I headed home the next day. Hayes and Kamri had asked after every doctor’s appointment if the baby was still alive. We dreaded getting home this time and having to tell them no. I had been home an hour or so, we had told them, and I started feeling feverish again. I had to go back to the hospital. I spent three more days in the hospital with IV’s full of antibiotics to save my life. As hard as it was to go back and sit for three days in the hospital after everything that had happened, I was filled with gratitude that through modern medicine I would be able to go home and be with Bracken and our four living children.

It has now almost been a year since we had Naomi and six and a half years from Dane’s. Those two children have brought our family closer together. Dane & Naomi are talked about often by their siblings and parents. My children have learned at a young age that death is not the end and we will see them again. I have learned and continue to learn the power of Jesus Christ’s atonement to bear our burdens. There are still days and moments I struggle with my grief but most of the time I am in awe at Christ’s power to bear our burdens and make them light.

I don’t feel like I’m an inspiring person or that my story is particularly inspiring except that through these experiences I have come to know of God’s love for me and for everyone. I have felt God’s love through the hundreds of meals that have been brought to our house, the hours of care that have been lovingly given to my kids, the visits, the calls, the text messages of comfort and support that have been sent and the countless prayers that have been given on our behalf by friends, family, acquaintances and strangers. I have been amazed at how many people have reached out to me at random moments when I have needed it the most.

I am learning to not be critical of others’ choices and try my best not to judge. I am not perfect but these experiences have helped me strive to be better. You never know all of a person’s backstory. I often get the well-meaning comment from strangers when they see me with my kids, “Two boys and Two girls, what a perfect family!!” and while I appreciate that I am significantly blessed to have the children I have, I can’t help but think of the two who are missing. I’m grateful that I know this life isn’t the end, that one day I’ll have my family all together but until then, I hope to help others feel of Christ’s love for them by serving them as so many have done for me.




















Friday, August 29, 2014

INSPIRING WOMEN {what she's doing now}

This month I decided to do something a little different in celebration of sweet baby Jayzen. Remember Jessica Dupass and her sweet story, well she had her baby boy and he is home and healthy! Instead of featuring someone new I decided to go out and take pictures of Jayzen.
I love the way a house feels when there is a newborn there. It is so quite, peaceful, and happy. (When they are asleep that is) Being around a newborn always gives me this overwhelming feeling of our Saviors love and what Heaven will one day feel like. I also love seeing a mom with her new baby. There is something so special and so heavenly about the love between a mother and her child. I asked Jessica to tell us her birth story in a mini version.

Here it is...

On August 12, 2014 @ 12:26 PM, Jayzen Maddox Dupass came into this world weighing 6 lbs. 1 oz, 18 1/4 inches, beautiful as ever, and causing a scene. My entire pregnancy was scary and very stressful. So, why would he make his arrival any different?
We had started the morning at the hospital but we weren't there to bring little man into this world! Nope! We were there to have this stubborn little guy flipped into the head down position. He was transverse breech (his head was in my ribs, back up, bum in my other ribs with his cute little toes towards my cervix). We went to the hospital to have a procedure called ECV (External Cephalic Version) done. External cephalic version, or version, is a procedure used to turn a fetus from a breech position or side-lying (transverse) position into a head-down (vertex) position before labor begins. When successful, version makes it possible for you to try a vaginal birth. Well long story short neither of us liked the procedure very much and we both had really bad reactions to the epidural and the Version. Jayzen's heart rate dropped really low after he was flipped so, we ended up in an emergency C-Section. It took 7 minutes from the time his heart rate dropped until he was out. When he was born he wasn't breathing properly and his heart rate was really low. He really likes to scare us! I have a feeling that he's going to be the one that gives me gray hair. Jayzen is the answer to many prayers...He is healthy, beautiful and perfectly perfect!
There have been many pieces to our puzzle that have been missing and with him he brought those pieces and completed our puzzle. I can officially say that he is the beginning to our happily ever after.






























I just want to thank Jessica for being so willing to share her birth story. She is an amazing person who deserves so much. Jayzen is so lucky to have her as a mother. She loves her boys with all her heart and cares for them in a way that is unimaginable. Thanks again Jessica!