Molly Claire Day... August 27

On the one year anniversary of delivering Molly, we decided to have a little remembrance for her. We wrote her notes, and got balloons to attach the notes to. These are the notes...

The kids were excited to hold the balloons on the way.

The sky was beautiful that evening.

We like to think it was Molly's way of saying life is good, and she is alright.

At the cemetery.

A kiss for Molly...

Three of the balloons rose together.

Sophie's went later and slower.

Sweet sweet Sophie made us all tissues with Molly's name on them, in case we needed to wipe our eyes. She is SO thoughtful :)

After letting the balloons go, Con wanted to play under the big pine.

It was a nice night.

Each of us have experienced a pregnancy loss, or two, or three in the past year or so, so we decided to go to lunch together around our due dates. It has helped so much to have girlfriends who get it, to talk to. We are forever friends, and so are our baby angels.

Utah Share - Walk To Remember

Today was a sweet day. We were able to participate a walk in honor of Molly, and families who have experienced pregnancy or infant loss. We got there and registered. We got our t-shirts with Molly, and many other babies names on it. We wrote a little note for Molly, to attach to a balloon, and we listened to a sweet poem, and tearful musical number, then we were given a balloon to hold, as we walked a path through Layton Park.

We met our friends Kim and Craig Helgesen there, and Kim's sister-in-law, Lindzi Helgesen. It was nice to be there with someone we knew, and feel their love and support.

After walking with all the other families, we went back to the amphitheater, and listened as the announcers called out the names of each baby lost. When your babies name was read, you let your balloon go, and watched it sail away. Before we let ours go, the kids hugged and kissed it. The kids each let a pink balloon go for Molly, and Wayne and I let a white balloon go for each of our other miscarriages. It was so sweet. It was touching for me to listen to all the names, and see the two announcers tearfully release a few balloons of her own, in honor of her baby(s) . It was especially touching to see all the many balloons there, and hear one woman in particular, who let off eight balloons. I can't even imagine how hard things have been for her.






I have a new appreciation for Utah Share, and even though they were not called on my behalf in the hospital, they have done, and continue to do so much good for families at such a hard time. They provided the blankets and hat Molly was dressed in in the hospital. I was thankful for all the volunteers who made today such a special one.

After letting the balloons off, and getting a snack and drink, the kids wanted to play in the park. We let them play for a few minutes, but it was so cold. They had a great time... after all, life does go on. It's a good thing it does.

For more information, please visit: www. utahshare.org

The Memorial

We have felt so loved, and so blessed to have so many wonderful friends, family, and neighbors in our lives throughout the past 5 1/2 weeks. We received so many cards, flowers, meals, gifts, kind words and hugs. When I started writing out thank you cards, I was amazed at how many I wrote. We are truly blessed for everyone we know. We hope we can pay it forward. We love you all.

Before The Memorial

The kids drew pictures, and wrote letters to put in the casket with Molly, and Wayne wrote her a letter. I thought it was sweet :)

Burial Dress for my Baby

After I had Sophie, I made her blessing dress, with the help of my mother. It is beautiful, and I still love it. If Molly had lived, I would have made one for her as well. After I delivered her, and I knew we were going to bury her, I thought about what she would be buried in, and the hospital had nothing I found suitable. I had her on Thursday, and we were going to bury her on Sat. So, Friday morning, I went out, and bought the fabric and trimmings for a perfect little dress. It was the hardest purchase I have ever had to make. I cried the whole time. I came home, and got a bit of it done, but couldn't seem to will myself to do the rest. It was so hard to think about what I was doing, and why I was doing it. I knew it would be the last thing I could ever give her. My mom called, and when I asked her to help, she told me she would be honored. She came right away, and got it all put together. I don't know what I would ever do without my mom. She has been wonderful through all this. I think it turned out beautifully.

I love her little bib with the, "M," on it. Made just for her.

Sophie got to make Molly a bracelet, and I got to make matching ones for myself and Soph.

My babies bonnets.

Blessing and burial outfits.

The only toy I will ever give her. I put a bracelet on the bear as well.

A little piece of Heaven in our Hearts

I knew I wanted to blog about this, but thought it would be too hard. I am making myself do it, as it will probably help me heal even more. August 26 was a super busy day. I made yummy pear jam with my cute cousin Shauna all day. My back hurt, I was tired, and after the kids got home from school, they had snacks, homework, and I was frantically trying to clean up, get them ready for that nights activities. Conrad had a soccer game at 5:30, and Sophie had ballet at 6. I had a Dr appointment at 6:30. Things were rushed. The appointment was just the gender confirmation and check-up, as we found out we were having a girl at the 14 week visit, but we were just going to make sure. As soon as I got in the car, I turned the radio on, and felt more calm. I went to the Dr office, and waited until they got me back. When she took me back, and started with the ultrasound, I was telling her how a dear friend of mine had lost her sweet baby boy at 14 weeks, and how sad I was for her. I didn't hear a hear a heart beat, and asked her if there was a heart beat. She said, "No." I didn't believe her at first, and asked that she check again. She did, and confirmed there was no heartbeat. She measured the babies head, and it was small for gestational age. I was in complete shock and started to sob, as she told me she was going to have to deliver me, and that I could pick the day and time. She told me she was sorry, gave me a few more details about the delivery for what is known as a, "fetal demise," and left me alone in the cold stark room. I managed to make my way out of the office in a fog of tears. I remember having to stop at the top of the stairs to wipe my eyes, so I could actually see the stairs, and not trip. I kept calling Wayne the whole way out, but couldn't get him to answer. I then called the neighbor, and she got Wayne who was mowing the lawn, and he called me right back. I told him what had happened. He asked me if I was sure, and started to cry when I told him yes. I asked him to wait to tell the kids until I got home. He met me in the garage, and hugged me, and cried with me. Then we went into the living room, and called the kids in. They knew from the look on our faces, that things were not good. We told the kids what happened, and Sophie started sobbing for her little sister, uncontrollably. Conrad was sad as well, and drew me a picture. Both kids kept hugging my belly, and kissing my round belly, and saying they love the baby. Sophie just kept saying she just wanted to see Molly, as we told her we had to deliver. We had a miscarriage at 10 weeks in December, and I had a D&C, and the kids were sad they never got to see the baby. We decided to deliver as soon as possible, and the hospital fit us in that night. My mom took the kids, and we headed to the hospital.

When we got there, they gave us a quiet room, that looked just like the room we delivered Conrad in. As I looked around the room, and at the monitors, and the place they lay the newborn baby after it is born, it was so sad, it seemed almost like a dream. They gave me oral labor inducing pills, and an ambien. I thankfully fell asleep a few minutes later. Wayne was not so lucky, and was up with his thoughts, and hospital sounds the bulk of the night. It was so surreal for both of us.

When I awoke the next day, they gave me more pills, and we tearfully awaited the birth of our sweet daughter's tiny body. A few hours later, they gave me an epidural, because in many cases, when you have a stillborn, the placenta does not come out on it's own, and the doc has to do a d&c right there on the spot.

We did not know how long she had been deceased, and the nurses were preparing us for the worst. We didn't know what to expect. We didn't know if she would be deformed, or missing limbs or skin, or if she would even look like a baby. I knew it was about time to deliver, and we patiently waited. There was no anxious excitement this time, no monitors, ho heated bed to receive her, just two sweet nurses, me, and Wayne. I felt her slip out of me, not like my other babies deliveries had been, but a sweet delicate surrender from my body to the earth. Wayne was holding my hand. I didn't dare look at her at first, for fear of what I might see. Wayne looked, and when I asked him how she looked, he said, "Beautiful."

I looked at me sweet tiny helpless lifeless baby lying there. There was nothing I could do for her. No way to make it better. I cried sweet tears. I felt lucky to be her mom, and help her on her quest to get a little body, as much as she needed. She was beautiful. She was meant to be my daughter, and I her mother. The veil was thin. I felt peace and comfort. I felt an instant connection with her, the same as I did with my other babies, the minute they were born. My love for her grew tenfold. The nurses cleaned her up, just like they would any other healthy living baby. They put a tiny hat on her tiny head, and wrapped her in soft blankets and gave her a teddy bear. They handed her back to me and Wayne, and we looked at her, and loved her, and cried.

We called my mom, and friend DL. Wayne went and got the kids, and my mom and DL and Bear came to the hospital to meet their sister, grandaughter, and niece.

Our only family picutre. I wish I could have forced myself to smile.

After we had held her a while, they told us our options were to have her creamated, or to burry her. The thought of burning my sweet daughter's helpless body gave me a stomach ache. We chose to burry her, and are so glad we did.

My sweet Molly taught me more than I would have ever thought. I am so thankful for every minute she was in my body. Thankful for every second our lives were joined. Wayne and I are thankful for every night she slept between us, every hug she shared with us. She is eternally part of us, and we are lucky that it is so. We love our dear sweet angel daughter. We are blessed to have been able to share even a second with her. We cherish our memories, and our love still grows for her as for our other children.

We love you Molly, oh yes we do.
We love you Molly, oh yes we do.
We love you Molly, it's true,
Oh Molly, we love you.

We love you Molly, oh yes we do.
We love you Molly, oh yes we do.
When you're not near us, we're blue.
Oh Molly, we love you!