9-11-2009

We had complications during labor and our baby: Christopher Logan did not survive...
I started labor at home and my contractions went from 8 minutes apart to one HUGE contraction that wouldn't stop. I called for a ride to the hospital and became very sick VERY fast. Somehow I lost about an hour after I passed out on the floor of my room. Once I got to the hospital and I stepped out of the car, I thought my water broke. I felt like dying, my whole body was miserable beyond words - not from the contractions (not that they helped). Once I was wheeled upstairs and changed into my gown I realized the gush of fluids was blood... LOTS of blood, my pants were soaked everywhere. The nurse struggled to find a vein and she dug around for 10-15 minutes to place the IV. Miraculously my doctor happened to have just finished up a delivery and was able to get to my room within 10 minutes or so. He said "it looks like she abrupted, lets go now!" He immediately grabbed my bed and ran down the hallway for an emergency c-section... At this time the baby still had a heartbeat, but it was low. I remember reaching up to grab Dr Goff's hand and he looked sad in his eyes. The anesthesiologist put me to sleep immediately, I only remember coughing. When I awoke the first words out of Dr Goff's mouth were "IM sorry, but the baby didn't make it" I was still in and out of consciousness cause the next thing I remember is Dr Goff and Jon blessing the baby over my body. Then I came to and realized what happened. I bawled so hard. I was in shock and denial and the worst sorrow I have every felt. They handed me his body;
my baby was stillborn...
How could that be possible, he was alive minutes ago. I kept thinking he may start breathing if I held him long enough, but his body became cold and stiff. The warmer I kept him the softer he remained. I was asked to name him. I was speechless. All the names seemed wrong for this stillborn baby. Then the spirit touched my heart and reminded me of my vision from my childhood of these two little boys in my bedroom. One was at the bottom of my bed, laying on his side, smiling at me. He had spiked hair and seemed about 4 or 5 years old: this was David Michael. The other boy across the room was holding a blankie and seemed a bit more reserved and looked about 3 years old. This was Christopher. The whole vision consisted of these two boys looking at me peacefully and I was immediately aware of their names. When we had the late miscarriage October of 2008 the spirit told me that baby was David Michael. And when this baby was stillborn I knew this was Christopher. They wanted me to see them and know their names, that this was meant to be, part of the plan. I bought a baby blanket after this vision that reminded me of Christopher holding a blankie, I kept it all these years and that blanket was buried with Christopher.
We kept him in our room for 3 1/2 days (with the exception of frequent visits to the fridge to keep his body "fresh".) We had many friends and family visit, and my aunt Jane flew in from Arizona and stayed for 5 days while I was at the hospital and for the funeral. I'm sure people were surprised to see us with the baby, but we didn't care, this was our grief. The bishop, stake president, elders quorum president and others came to bless me and Jon. My cousin Dee planned the whole funeral and took Jonnie and Samantha the first night. Bishop Grey and Lindy VanKomen took them the other days. I had friends at my side caring for me while I cuddled with my baby for the only memories I would have of him. Each day his body became more frail and dehydrated. He never got too stiff, but remained cold and still like a doll. I didn't want to sleep because I would miss the precious few days I had with my baby. Each day was terribly sad, but we had to push through. I couldn't imagine missing out on those days I had to hold my baby.
My health deteriorated very quickly and I had to receive 6 units of blood. My hemoglobin level was 5. I almost lost my uterus and I was very lucky not to bleed to death. But all that seems minor compared to the pain of losing Christopher. Every day is a struggle and the scar is a constant reminder that my baby is not with us. The spirit reminds me there was nothing else we could have done because this was meant to be... But the pain and the sorrow is so strong, my heart is broken. We had his hands molded for a bronze plaque. We also had a professional photographer take lots of pictures.
We buried him at Memorial Park Cemetery less than 3 miles away from home. We had an open casket for the viewing and I told the funeral home: no make-up, he is a baby, leave him as natural as possible. I wanted to hold him those last two hours, but my body was in such pain I had no energy left. SO I held his hand. We put the blanket and a teddy bear in the casket and I hated it when they sealed it shut. The service was beautiful and I remember Brother Coons talking and President Graves. The chapel was as full as a Sunday Sacrament meeting. Jon's brothers were the pallbearers. Cassie Weske spoke at the gravesite. Her little boy died at 1.5 and we buried Christopher next to him. I struggled to survive all the chaos of the funeral, burial and lunch after... I couldn't make it all and I slept in the wheelchair for the 2 hours of the luncheon after the 4 hours funeral service. Gotta remember I had only left the hospital the day before and was still recovering from the c-section and all the other complications that made me so weak. I only wish Jon was not so busy with his friends when they arrived, I needed my husband by my side.
The first time it rained after he was buried, I worried so much that water would leak into his casket and I worried about bugs on his body. I still visit the grave every Friday and the 11th of each month. I will post a pic of the stone. Jon has only been back to see the stone once. He prefers to forget which makes mourning very tough for me to handle alone. The kids started a program at school for those who have lost loved ones, a support group... They found a great deal of comfort there. I never did get to find my outlet, a therapist or a support group.
I have posted a few pictures including his 3rd and 4th day when his color is getting very bad so be prepared to see the good pictures with the bad.
He is so beautiful.






This is when I was ready to be discharged, which means our last real goodbye before the awful people at the morgue take him away forever. We had about 1 hour after this picture.




This was just after I woke from the surgery, Samantha had cleaned and dressed her brother. She climbed into the recovery room bed with me for a picture, Jonnie was too scared to come close, but stayed near mommies side regardless.


This picture I was still receiving my last blood transfusion.


We buried him in a precious outfit that said "Daddy is my hero" with footballs everywhere. The feet were even footballs. It was soft, cream and brown, fit him perfectly.


Thank you Samantha for reminding me how to smile with your silly face.


This was too much for me, I was barely able to stand, let alone endure 4-5 hours for a funeral service.