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Liz's Story

I, like most people, enjoy looking at rainbows. I always think of the story of Noah’s ark and remember how the rainbow is a sign of God’s promise. But I never thought I would cling to that promise one day.

Hannah, like all of our children, was a delightful surprise. In August of 2000, we found out we expecting again. We were completely stunned! We had not planned on another child for at least two years. Andrew, our son, was 9 months old and Chelsea, our daughter, was 6 years old. Of course, our plans are not God’s plans, are they? I remember lying in bed the night we found out and thinking, “God, if you took this baby right now, I would be ok with it.� That is such a hard thing to admit. Of course, by the next day, I couldn’t believe I had thought that. Once I sat back and thought about it, I couldn’t wait to hold this new bundle in my arms. I just knew it was going to be a girl! I had so many visions of her and Andrew playing, laughing, and being the best of friends! She and Chelsea would have so much fun dressing up together, Chelsea giving her advice, and all 3 of us girls shopping together!

Fast forward to Jan. 16th, 2001. I was 22 weeks pregnant at this time. That day, I had spent all day scrubbing and cleaning my house. My father in law was coming and I wanted the house spotless. I look back now and realize that I was “nesting.� I had been invited to a Pampered Chef party that night and was looking forward to spending some time with just the girls. I felt so good that night! I had new clothes on and loved being pregnant! I had never felt that pretty with Andrew. My pregnancy had been uneventful at the time and was so enjoyable. I was having a great time at the party. The demonstration was done and we were now enjoying the snacks. I had my plate on my tummy at one point and you could see the baby kicking. (At this time, we were still unaware what we were having.) Life was so good! It’s amazing how one split second can change your entire world. As I was sitting there, I felt something. It felt like I had started my monthly. I thought “That is something I haven’t felt in a while� So, I got up and headed for the restroom. Of course, I weighed myself first. I still think back on that and think, “Why in the world do you do that?!� But at the time, I was so concerned about how much I gained. Such a little thing now. After getting up from the toilet, I realized it was full of blood. I never panicked. I calmly went and told my best friend, whose house I was at. She handed me the phone to call my Dr. The Dr. immediately called me back and said not to panic, but I needed to quickly get to the hospital. From this moment on, I felt like I was just floating and watching the events unfold. God’s hand was so evident in each and every moment.

I had the only vehicle in our family with me at the time. Plus, my husband was closer to the hospital so it would not make any sense for him to come to me. I called my parents house because they lived about 3 minutes away. They were not supposed to be home that night. They had planned on attending a funeral 2 hours away but because of the heavy rains that night, were home. Praise the Lord! They rushed over to get me. While waiting on them, I called my husband and told him what was going on. He was not too concerned because I had bled with Andrew also. I told him this was different, but I do not think he completely understood until he saw me at the hospital. As we got closer to the hospital, I could feel the blood clots. I kept thinking “Oh no! It’s the baby!!� Call it “mommy sense� but in my mind, I knew this was my last moments with her. I wanted to just cherish each and every kick, move, everything.

When we arrived at the hospital, they quickly put me in Labor & Delivery. I remember they wanted to cut my (new) jeans. I threw such a fit over that! As they hooked me up to monitors, (and btw, they didn’t cut them!) you could see the baby on sonogram. She looked great! Of course, they wouldn’t tell us the sex, but I knew! My Dr. said I had experienced a placenta abruption, but if I quit bleeding, things would probably be ok. I would be on bed rest the rest of my pregnancy and possibly in the hospital, but things were not too bad. Everyone went home and Eric and I prepared for the night. The bleeding had slowed, but not stopped completely, which was good. I didn’t sleep much that night. I was having, in my mind, some minor cramps. Nothing was showing up on the monitor so the nurse gave me some Tylonel to sleep comfortably. Around 5 a.m., the “cramps� had gotten worse. The nurse came in to find out what was going on and realized the baby’s monitor had slipped off during the night. The next was like a scene from the show “ER.�

Lights flew on, people rushed in, it was crazy! I was in labor! I was quickly hooked up to a sonogram and we sadly realized that our precious baby’s heartbeat was slowly going down. My Dr. told us we had a choice. They could do everything in their power to save the baby, but it may not be in my best interest. Also, our baby was not considered “viable� so her chances of survival outside the womb were not great. Up until that point, I never realized there was such a thing as a viable baby. I had just assumed that they could save a baby at any point. We told the Dr. that we wanted our baby to have the opportunity to live. She checked me once more and said that sadly, that couldn’t happen. I had progressed to far in labor and her heartbeat had slowed even more. We watched the sonogram until her heartbeat was at 60 beats a minute. That was such a precious moment for Eric and I! I can still remember every moment of it.

We started making the necessary calls to friends and family. We were both so numb. Even though I had had a feeling about this, I was still so shook up that it had actually happened. The Dr. said that I would be drugged most of the day and would not have to work hard to deliver. I was in and out of the entire day. I would wake up for a few moments and then go right back to sleep. I feel so sorry for my husband. I was not awake to experience the pain that day. He was. He had to make so many decisions that day that were just heartbreaking. Around 7 that evening, they realized Hannah was not going to come. My liver was starting to shut down and I was not in good shape. They needed to do an emergency D&C to save my life. I just remember I wanted it to all be over.

We had requested that we wanted to see and hold our baby. After making sure I was awake, they brought her to us. She was beautiful. She had a cute little pink dress on. Her little toes and fingers were so long. She even had hair! She looked just like Chelsea and Andrew. As we held her, I couldn’t believe she wasn’t breathing. As her mommy, I just wanted to breathe life into her. But she was already breathing, just in Heaven. Her creator had already welcomed her back Home and gave Hannah her new Heavenly body. We spent 30 precious moments with our Hannah. Even though they were short, I am so thankful for them. What a gift the Lord gave us!

That night, I had a vision. I know was not a dream and it was from the Lord. I could see Hannah and my grandmother (who we had lost just over a year before and who Hannah was named after) walking on the streets of gold with my Lord! They were smiling and laughing. My grandmother looked at me and said, “See Aimee, she’s ok� I can still see it in my mind. It was such a beautiful scene. I realized now how blessed I am to see that little piece of Heaven!

Hannah’s funeral was 2 days later. It was a beautiful sunny day. I still could not believe that I was getting dressed to attend my daughter’s funeral. The graveside service was packed. We were (and still are) so blessed to have so many great friends and family. As we were leaving, I just could not bear to leave her there. I started crying so hard and screaming that I just wanted to take her body with me. My pastor was holding me and taking me to the car. Suddenly he stopped. He told me to look up. There was a beautiful rainbow that ended right over Hannah’s resting spot. My pastor whispered, “See, that’s God promise!� Oh, how I clung to that!

It was God’s promise. For so long, I thought it was God’s promise I would have another little girl. I think that was only part of the promise. Even though we did go on to have Abigail, I believe God was promising that He would get me through this. And boy, did He! The last five years have been hard, but they have also brought me closer to the Lord. Heaven is now just on my back porch! The Lord has walked beside me, even held me, the entire time. I still miss Hannah. My arms ache to hold her. One day that promise will be fulfilled, but until then, I am going to honor Hannah’s life on earth. Because of Hannah, my husband and I have become so much closer. I fell into a deep depression at one point, but through God’s grace, came out of it and realized that I could use this experience to honor Him. I could write another ten pages on how God has been there for us through all if this. I have experienced His grace, His mercy, and His love. And I wouldn’t change any of it! I would experience the heartache, the pain, the tears, all of it, to be where I am today. Thank you so much for reading this. My prayer is that when you look at a rainbow, you will remember how much God loves you. In my family, it’s also our Hannah smiling down on us all!

"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."
Job 3:21 (ESV)

On December 2, 2003 I received my greatest and worst birthday present ever; the birth and death of my first child. Isabella Danielle Hulsey was born into Heaven on my 35 th birthday. Having waited 8 years for her arrival, her death was devastating to my wife and me. She had only existed for 17 weeks in the safety of her mother’s womb, but it doesn’t change the fact that her short life had a life changing impact on my own life.

I had dreams for her. I wanted to watch her grow into a woman. I wanted to teach her to ride a bike, tie her shoes, and catch a fish. I looked forward to the day she graduated high school and finished college. I had already begun to feel nervous about her first date, the prom, and giving her to another man at her wedding. These are the things that are permanently lost to me.

As I watched these dreams die on that cool night in December, I felt inadequate. I was faced with a problem I couldn’t fix—a repair I couldn’t make. She was forever gone and wouldn’t come back to me. I felt as if God had stolen her from Heather and me. She was our princess, a pearl we’d waited 8 years to find now out of my reach. I knew that God could return her to me in an instant if He so desired, but He didn’t.

As I held her tiny, fragile form in my hands; I took the opportunity to memorize her face, hands, feet, and everything else I could remember. She was perfect in every way. Knowing that God took the time to create such a wonder truly amazed me and helped me to realize how important we are to him.

It was at that moment that I promised Isabella that her death would not be in vain. I would search for God’s purpose in my life and make every effort to fulfill it. I’d prayed for purpose before, but God never answered. Perhaps her death has made that purpose clear; perhaps her death opened the door to His answer.

I will always mourn for my daughter, but I will always have peace in knowing that she will never suffer because she is with her real Father. Someday I will join her because God the Father willingly sacrificed His own Son for us and enabled us to have true rest after the body is gone. Knowing this I can now honestly say that God has not taken my daughter; He has given me purpose.

I can recall it was August 1, 2002 and I had a prenatal appointment. That was the most horrible day of my life. I was angry at the way the doctor treated me in the first place, as though he was afraid to touch me. I was supposed to have had my last pap smear so I could get ready for my baby to be born, but he did not do that properly. I was hurt in that process. He also did not listen to my baby's heartbeat long enough to determine which heart beat he was listening to. I got home and I felt my baby move maybe two more times that day. I assumed that he was okay, so later that night my husband and I went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up to use the restroom and get a glass of water, then went back to lie down. My baby usually moved when I got up, but that day he didn't. Before I called the hospital, I read a paper I had gotten on a previous hospital visit. The paper said "if you don't feel the baby move, drink a whole glass of cold water or any cold fluid", so that's what I did and there was still no response whatsoever.

I called the hospital and they told me to come in. My mother-in-law drove me, while my husband stayed home with the other children. The nurse hooked me up to a monitor, but she could not find a heartbeat. Not telling me anything, she ran and got a sonogram machine and the doctor came back to my room. The doctor asked me "What's going on?" and I told him that my baby wasn't moving. I didn't have to look at the sonogram machine, I could see the nurses' expressions on their faces and that said it all! He then turned and looked at me and said, "The reason your baby isn't moving is because there is no heart beat". That's when everything stopped and I screamed out so loud. It was unbelievable! I shrieked, "This cannot happen to me!" I did not want to accept that my baby was gone. The one I carried for 9 months. My mother-in-law was right there by my side and I could see a tear running down her face as well. She held me so tight.

The nurses and doctor sat there a moment and gave their sympathies. The doctor asked me if I wanted to wait and let my delivery happen naturally, or have my labor induced. I told them to go ahead and induce me. I did not want to wait and go home, knowing that my baby had passed away, so they put me in a room. My mother-in-law called my husband and told him what had happened. In about 20 minutes he was there with the other children and my sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and father-in-law. We all mourned our loss and we prayed. I was still in tears, not being able to compose myself.

After an hour or two, they came in and started my I.V with the pitocin. Later my bag of water was broken and the labor started. I was in labor for several hours. By half way through, every one had left except for my husband. He stayed by my side. Being in so much pain, I asked for an epidural. The nurse told me that it would be 20 minutes. By the time they came to give it to me, I was pushing my baby out. Everyone stood around and saw the baby delivered. I was expecting for some reason to hear my baby cry. There was no sound. I started to cry again. The nurse asked me if I wanted to hold my baby. At that moment, I did not want to see him. I wanted some time to myself.

Two hours later, I saw my baby for the first and last time. At first I was scared to hold him. My husband held him for about 5 minutes and then he walked over and put him in my arms. I looked at my baby life-less. I started to cry once more. I kept blaming myself for what had happened. Everyone said I did nothing. There was nothing I could have done to save my baby. We had him for about 15 minutes and then we had to give him back. I said my goodbye's and so did my husband.

Our baby was born August 5, 2002. My due date was Aug 12, 2002. We buried our baby August 10, 2002 .I know that my baby is in a safe place. He is with the Father and His Son in Heaven. And if he's listening, which I know he is, we love you so much Bryson.

Mommy, Daddy, sister's Destiny, and Surya and brother Darshay

Walking though the process of grief was the most difficult thing I have ever done. It was lonely and it felt like my heart was hemorrhaging. I held onto my husband, who was also hurting, and I clung to the Lord. I took comfort in those who have shared a similar loss, who could understand or relate to the pain. However, the most comfort came from the Lord. He ministered to me through songs on the radio, the Bible, and just time with Him. The Lord hurt with me, He understands heartbreak. He also could handle the honesty of my questions and at times anger, and even anger at Him for letting it happen. He gave me hope, knowing Asa was in such a wonderful place, being raised by the best parent ever. And He gave me hope in knowing that He would cause this to work out for good, that He would bring beauty from ashes. He offered me healing of my broken heart, if I would travel this road with Him. He has done that! My heart is whole again. I cherish my brief time with Asa, and glad I had it. I look forward to seeing him again.

Here's my story...

My husband and I were out to dinner on a Friday night. I would be 21 weeks pregnant the next day. We were very excited about our first baby. We were making plans about the nursery, discussing how we would raise him, our views and ways we wanted to train and discipline him, and how much we were looking foreword to seeing him, holding, and loving him. We had decided on the name Asa James and that we would call him A.J. We had a pleasant meal, good conversation, and in agreement on where we were headed with the anticipation of the addition of our first child to the family.

When we finished dinner, I began to get terribly cold. I thought the air conditioner at the restaurant was on too high. We left, and I couldn't get warmed up even on the way home in the warm Texas September air. I bundled up in pajamas when we arrived home, and got under as many blankets as we had. As a Labor and Delivery nurse I knew "I can't let my temperature get over 102, or I'll need to go to the hospital." "I better drink lots of fluids, or I will probably get dehydrated running fever and that could kick me into labor." We had recently moved into a more economical apartment that had one more room for our baby. I could not remember where I had my thermometer, if it was still packed or put up. After briefly looking, I gave up.

I called a good friend who worked in Labor and Delivery with me. She would be getting off in a half hour. I asked if she could run by the store and pick up a thermometer, Tylenol suppositories (to help keep my fever down), and some 7up. She agreed. It seemed the next hour took an eternity. I couldn't keep any liquids down. I thought I might have food poisoning. I felt miserable. By the time she got there, I wanted to go to the hospital regardless of what my temperature was. I knew I needed IV fluids at minimum. She took my temp, it was 102.5!!! She called my doctor and the hospital, and we were on our way! On arrival to the hospital (20 minutes after my first temp) my temperature was now 103.7!!! Yikes! In my mind I thought, "This is not good on Asa at all! In fact I haven't felt any movement since 11 pm! This can't be happening!"

My friend stayed beside me and helped the other nurse tag-team to get things done as quickly as possible. I was dilated to 2 cm with an hour glassing bag of water, with his feet presenting. One hour later my temperature was 104.8 axillary. I thought, "We are no longer fighting for Asa's survival, but mine." I knew that he would not make it at that temperature, and I know that it is very dangerous for adults to run temperatures like this. "If I make it, how many brain cells am I going to fry? Will I be a vegetable?" I wondered.

I got the official news by the doctor, what I already knew, "You are very sick. The baby is dead. And we need to get you delivered as soon as possible." He added, "You possibly have an incompetent cervix, and may have been walking around dilated for a while. And that may have been the route for this infection. Or you got infected and it stimulated pre-term labor and that is why you are dilated."

Turns out that my blood cultures that they drew on arrival, before they started IV antibiotics, were positive for Group B Strep. You hear about Group B Strep killing newborns, but I had it. I was septic with it. That is why I was so sick. They started me on Pitocin sometime after 3am. My husband called our family, and friends from our church that were in our cell group (meeting at homes once a week). Our friends came and prayed in the hospital lobby early in the morning until I was "through the woods."

On September 13th, 1997, I delivered Asa by 8:15am (only 5 hours), head first. That was an answer to prayer, a quick labor, and a quick delivery (God turned him, a dead baby doesn't turn from feet first to head first). I only remember glimpses and snap shots of the whole event. I remember delivering him in my patient room, but then I remember looking up and seeing the operating room lights, and thinking, "I must be in surgery." Then I heard the voice of my favorite anesthesiologist behind me, as he was taking my blood pressure. At that moment I knew that even in the midst of this storm, God was still in control. The Lord is the only one who knew that I wanted to request him for anesthesia, and there he was helping to take care of me. My doctor had to quickly remove the placenta, it was not coming on it's own (as typical for pre-term deliveries). Surgery was imminent.

I remember slightly coming-to in Trendelenburg (my bed in head-down and feet-up position) thinking, "This is uncomfortable!" Then my nursing judgment started breaking through the fog, "Wait, they... only... put... people... in... this... position... if... they... need... to... for... their... blood pressure... dropping." Then I remember having an oxygen mask smothering my face blowing forcefully, and wanting badly to push it away. Then the light bulb came on inside my head, "Wait, they... only... put... oxygen... on... if... you... need... it." My husband said that there wasn't a space around my bed that wasn't occupied by a health care professional. My blood pressure bottomed-out at 60/20. I definitely remember having a peace and thinking, "Jesus, You are my calm in the storm," and thinking I was going to be with Him soon, and that was more than O.K.

A while later when I really came-to, I woke up to roses surrounding my room. The fragrance and sight was wonderful. Some friends on their way in to the hospital, stopped at a Tyler rose stand and bought out the entire stand! I had made it! I survived! There was my husband holding our precious perfectly formed son. He looked so much like his dad; his little round eyebrows and cute little bird ankles. He was precious. He quickly came into our life, and quickly left, with barely enough time to hold him to say good-bye. It wasn't fair and it hurt so much.

The next few days, though I was conscious, my body was still fighting. My kidneys were barely putting out urine, I had puffed up like a marshmallow, and I had fluid in my lungs. Needless to say I anticipated that it would take some time for my physical recovery, but having just read a book on grief, I also anticipated it would take at least a year for my emotional recovery. I didn't realize that some of my grief would be delayed until physically I was doing better. Oh, how much I wanted to hold my precious Asa James in my arms as we left the hospital like all the other moms do, but instead mine were empty.

If you are faced with loss, you will walk though grief and you will ultimately choose to either become better because of it… or become bitter. Because I chose to get better, I have been blessed to discover there is a purpose in Asa's brief little life. Now I help others who are fresher in their grief. I am able to hurt with them, as well as offer them hope. I am so much more sensitive to seeing others hurting than I was before experiencing my own grief. My prayer is for God to use me to touch others with His love, to bring them hope and healing.