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Jennifer Carson's Personal Story

I was 35 weeks and 2 days pregnant. I had felt my baby "drop" the week before and was trying to make it to 36 weeks. My MD appointment 2 days before had gone well and I was starting to dilate. It was a Sunday evening when I laid down on the couch, before going to bed, to count my kicks. This time was much different than all the rest. There were none to be found. My husband, who is a physician, immediately jumped up and tried to illicit some movement from our baby. There was still nothing so we headed for the hospital. As soon as we got there, they checked me in and began trying to find the heartbeat. Although they still couldn't find one, I wasn't too concerned. I knew babies often move less and heartbeats are harder to find just before they are born. I don't think there was any way I could bring myself to the point of thinking or believing there was something wrong. It wasn't until they wheeled the Cadillac ultrasound in at 3 a.m. that the reality of what was happening hit me. There was my precious little baby, his body still with a flat line where the heartbeat should have been. I'll never forget that picture. I let out a scream. I felt the full force of Christ's anguished words on the cross, "Lord, Lord, why have You forsaken me?" 

I know the Lord and my walk with Him had become much stronger during my pregnancy. To the point that some of my first thoughts were, "He is in control. He is sovereign. He is all knowing. He loves me and His plan is perfect (regardless of how it appears to me)". He was my true Comforter every minute through our horrific nightmare. I never felt alone. I felt Him pick me up and carry me through some of the most difficult days of my life. I remember my husband saying to me, "I love you more at this moment than ever before". I said, "It's because you don't see me. I am empty. I am dead. Who you see is Jesus carrying me". It brought a whole new meaning to the "Footprints" poem for me. God met me where I was and made HImself known in a way I had never experienced before - it was so unbelievably personal.

As the sun came up the next day, I prayed and hoped that it was just a bad dream. My belly was still big. How could my baby have died? How can those types of things happen with today's medical technology? I had so many unanswered questions. They started the pitocin at 9 a.m. to induce me. By 9 p.m. I hadn't progressed any further. My husband and I are very open people and we love to include others in our lives, during both good and bad times. I am so thankful for that because it allowed the Lord to show us His tremendous love and grace during those 12 long hours of waiting. We had so many people coming in and out of our room, praying for us, comforting us and loving us. Each person was an extension of God's hand in the flesh. A friend of mine, who doesn't know Jesus as his Lord and Savior, asked me how I could believe in a loving God who would take away our baby. I told him we had never felt more loved than we did at that very moment. At 9 p.m. they took me off the pitocin and let me rest. I took a bubble bath at midnight, to help me relax, then they restarted the pitocin again at 12:15 a.m. We had asked everyone who came by that day to specifically pray for my labor to go quickly. God honored those prayers. By 12:35 a.m. I was fully dilated and Braden Alec was born at 12:59 a.m. on August 3, 1999. 

Immediately following his birth, we gathered together with family and friends to hold him, pray for him, sing and tell him goodbye. It was such a beautiful time. Because it was the middle of the night, it seemed that we had God's full attention. Braden was  here for what seemed just a few moments, but he has already touched so many lives during that time.

We know God has a plan for his life. He does for each child He creates, from conception. In some how and some way the plan for Braden's life was fulfilled in God's eyes. We may never understand it but God tells us in His Word to not lean on our own understanding, but to TRUST in Him with all our hearts (Prov 3:5-6). He also says that His grace is sufficient for all things and that He perfects us in our weakness (II Cor 12:9-10). I understand that so much more than ever before. Jesus Christ is our only source of healing (Is 61:1-3). He understands our grief, and hurts with us. (Is 53:4,5). If you don't know him, you will never be at peace and find the joy that comes in the morning (Ps 30:5). If you open the Bible you will find Him. It is His love letter, written just for you at this time in your life. James 4:8 says, "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you". His desire is not to harm you, but to give you a future and a hope (Jer 29:11).

God's Word became alive to me. There are so many promises that apply to our lives that I clung to with all my might. It was all I had during those very dark and lonely days. It was my Living Water and Bread of Life. I camped in the Psalms, crying out David's words back to God. It sustained me when nothing else could. It comforted me to know someone else had felt the depth of pain I was experiencing. It's what got me through the heavy dark painful days of grieving for the life of my baby.

To read the rest of Jennifer's story...order a copy of Letters to My Glory Baby which includes seven years worth of letters to Braden (her grief journey day-by-day) and wisdom from facilitating Glory Babies for the past five years. Makes a great gift for someone who is grieving or someone who wants to understand someone else who is grieving.

 

In February 2007, I became pregnant. It was a wanted and planned for pregnancy. My husband and I were so excited. The day that I went to the doctor and she confirmed my pregnancy, my husband and I decided to plant a tree. My idea was to watch the tree grow as my child grew. It was something special that I could do for my baby that would last forever. We decided on a Freedom Althea / Rose of Sharon.

From the moment I told everyone that I was pregnant, they all told me it was going to be a boy. I also knew it in my heart it was going to be a boy. I wanted a boy so badly. A few months later, we went in for the ultrasound. Before I even went in, my mother-in-law gave me a card that said “grandson� and a blue bear. She was so confident and so right! It was the coolest experience to see a little life that was living right inside my belly. I saw his little arms waving around like he was swimming. He was a very active baby. When the ultrasound lady asked if we wanted to know the sex we both yelled, "YES"! She then said the magic words; "It's a boy"! We were not surprised but so excited to confirm what we already felt was true. I had tears in my eyes and my husband had the biggest grin on his face. I have never had any brothers so the thought of a son was an amazing feeling. Plus, he would be the first grandson! We invited my parents and my in-laws to wait in the waiting room so they could all find out at the same time the sex and that the baby was healthy. I think my mother and mother-in-law at some point figured out what room I was in. I could hear them "whispering" outside the door. I knew they were outside the door waiting with anticipation.

We started planning right away. Within a few months of finding out I was pregnant, we already had the nursery finished and furnished and a closet full of clothes. I even had a little black leather biker jacket. I could not wait to meet our son. We decided to name him Vincent Von Engel. We thought that Vinny was a cute name for a little boy and that Vincent was a sophisticated name that he could use when he was older. Vincent means "Victorious" and our last name Engel means "Angel". I used to daydream and wonder if he would look like me or his father.

I was in church one Sunday and I felt it on my heart to write Vinny a song. I began writing some lyrics for my Little Vincent but I kept finding it very difficult to express exactly what I wanted to say. While searching on the internet for ideas I came across a website that deals with personalized songs. This dedication song was everything that I wanted to say so I ordered it (see lyrics below).

I had a dream one night that I was in the hospital. I gave birth and I was holding my baby and I was crying and crying nonstop. When I woke up I did not have a nightmarish feeling. I had the feeling of peace; like I was crying because I was happy. I went to work and told one of my coworkers about it. She said that she had felt the same way. I was crying happy tears because I was so happy to hold my baby.

I had another ultrasound and got to hear the heartbeat several times. It was always so exciting! I kept thinking about how much I wanted to see him and how long it was going to be, still 2 whole months until my due date. I kept telling everyone in my family and at church how I just knew this baby was going to come early.

During my second ultrasound he really started showing his personality. He was quite a character. I asked if I could get a picture showing that he was a boy. Every time the ultrasound lady would go to click to take a picture showing he was a boy he would cover himself with his hands. It's like he knew we were watching. I never did get the picture.

I went to the doctor one Wednesday and after they took my weight and blood pressure I complained of my usual back pain. I got really excited when she said that she was going to listen for the heartbeat. It had been a whole month since I had gotten to hear it. She searched for the heartbeat over and over and could not find it. She tried really hard for several minutes. She then asked me if I would go to the hospital for an ultrasound, just to make sure that everything was OK. I said sure. I would get to see him again! I loved getting ultrasounds and seeing him play around inside my belly. Plus, I would have some new pictures for his scrapbook.

Something told me to call Doug, my husband, and ask him to take me since the doctor was having a hard time finding the heart tones. He came and picked me up and took me to the hospital. He assured me that it was just a glitch in the machine. I figured something like that had happened too. I was not worried at all. But as we got closer to the hospital, it happened. I realized that my baby could be dead. We prayed and prayed. I got to the hospital and instead of taking me to the imaging center where they normally do the ultrasounds they made me go to Labor and Delivery. They took me to a room and told me to get into a hospital gown. I started crying. I knew something was wrong. I kept asking the nurses what was happening and they just put their heads down. Finally a doctor came in. He said that he was going to do an ultrasound and that my son could be dead. They started to do the ultrasound and that is when I saw it; a lifeless limp little body floating around inside my own belly. No waving hands or arms.  No hands covering himself. No heartbeat! I squeezed my husband’s hand as hard as I could. Then I heard the words, "Sorry, your baby is dead".

My husband and I held each other and cried for a long time. Then they started hooking me up to machines and he started calling the family to tell them what had happened. Family, friends, & church members started coming up to visit me. I was getting flowers. In my head I kept thinking what has happened? This is not real. I think I was in shock. It was all just a bad dream. THEN I remembered the dream I had about holding a baby and crying. I realized that God had given me that dream. He was preparing me for what was to come.

They induced labor and about 24 hours later, Thursday, August 23rd 2007 at 7:09pm Vinny was born. He was 1 pound 12 oz and 13 ½ inches long. He was so beautiful. He looked exactly like Doug. He had Doug's eyes, hands & arms. He had little side burns. He was perfect. No one but the Lord knows what happened. I am not mad at anyone and I do not blame God. I KNOW that Vinny is in Heaven. Leaving the hospital was hard. I had no baby in my belly or in my arms. There was also a whole in my heart. It will be there forever until I am reunited with him in Heaven.

We had a funeral for Vinny. We played the Little Vincent song. My husband told me that he was so glad we had planted the tree, that I got the dedication song made for him, and made Vinny a scrapbook. Those were all things that we would have for the rest of our lives to help remember him. He told me that I would have made the best mother because of all of things I had done for our son before he was born. I do not believe that Vinny died for no reason. Even though he was stillborn, I believe that he had a purpose. I think his purpose was to awaken a lot of people. We are all going to die. At the funeral, Pastor John Hartmann and our friend John Clark gave the message of salvation. Some of the people there may have never heard of salvation. I'd like to look at Vinny as a messenger from Heaven sent to spread the good news.

Around 2:30 AM Tuesday morning, the day after the funeral, I woke after having a dream. I was in some sort of department store when Liz, a friend from church, called me on my cell phone to tell me and Doug to go to this lake near our home that we used to walk around when I was pregnant. We went there and after walking around for awhile we noticed Jesus illuminated on the water. He had his arms open and we ran to him. I woke up and told Doug about it and we prayed and thanked God for his comfort. We knew that he was there mourning with us; feeling our pain and trying to comfort us.

September 29th I received the best birthday present of all. I went to water the tree that Doug and I had planted in the garden on June 21st, when we found out that Vinny was a boy.  I had been watching the tree every day since we planted it in June and on my birthday I saw its first bloom! I know it was just a small twig; that it was not supposed to bloom until next season. But I know that God decided to give me a bloom for my birthday! I thought of Matthew 6 when I saw the bloom. Not only was the flower a gift from God but the message that God's word put forth from it; “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.�

Looking back now, I felt God guiding me. I planted a tree in my garden for Vinny when we first found out that we were pregnant. My idea was to watch the tree grow as Vinny grew. God's idea was to have something to serve as a memorial for him. I had a dream that I was holding a baby and I was crying. I thought they were happy tears but now I know that is was of the grief to come. God was preparing me. Vincent means "Victorious" and Engel means "Angel". He is a Victorious Angel. He conquered this world by going straight to Heaven. I cannot wait to see him again. I am sure he is looking forward to showing his Mommy and Daddy around. I know he will be so missed! We had his whole future planned out from dedication to graduation. But the Lord has better plans for us. He knows the beginning and the end. Someday we will find out all the answers to the questions we have and things will look so obvious.


To learn more about Vincent visit http://vincent-von-engel.memory-of.com

Some people only dream of angels...I held one in my arms. Please light a candle in memory of our loved one Vincent Engel by visiting http://vincent-von-engel.memory-of.com

In October 2004, we were blessed with the news of a new pregnancy. I had miscarried a pregnancy two years prior, so we didn’t tell our older children right away. But when we did, their reactions were priceless. Connor’s eyes lit up like Christmas as he kept asking, “Really? Really?� Nate, always matter-of-fact said, “I knew it. I prayed for a baby.� At Christmas, we announced the news to our family. Life was good.
As 2005 rolled in, baby Hearron was growing perfectly. Nate and Connor LOVED the change in my belly. They would give it raspberries and tell it knock-knock jokes. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that when my belly shook after a joke, it was actually me laughing, not the baby. We spent a lot of time talking about what it will be like when we finally meet our baby. Will it be a boy or a girl? Of course, the house was equally divided on preference. Will it have freckles? A dimple? Will it like football or soccer? What color hair will it have? The baby furniture and toys came out of the attic and all the sweet little outfits were washed and folded neatly.
At the beginning of March, I started noticing small contractions. Never the one to panic, I breathed through them and waited until my OB appointment at the end of the month to mention them to my doctor. Despite the fact that the contractions had become stronger and more frequent, at this point, he wasn’t concerned but ran a fetal fibronectin test to be on the safe side. The next day, his nurse called me on my cell phone and told me to come in ASAP and to pick up steroid injections for the baby’s lungs. You are at risk for delivery in the next couple of weeks. What?! OK, now I was panicking. I was only 29 weeks. What is wrong? Why is this happening? There weren’t any answers to those questions, just yet. In the meantime, I was put on strict bed-rest for 5 weeks and given medication to help relax my uterus and stop the contractions. Looking back, those five weeks were a gift from God. My wonderful friends and church family rallied to help take care of the household and getting Connor and Nate to and from school. I got to focus on the baby growing inside me. I watched my belly jolt and felt every flutter. A dear friend gave me knitting lessons and had me well on my way to having a blanket knit by the time the baby arrived. I also had a lot of time to focus on the Lord during those 5 weeks of confinement. He and I talked a lot and, having all daily distractions removed, I saw His hand on my life and noticed every provision. I just knew he’d get us through this hurdle. And He did. At 35 weeks, my doctor gave me the OK to resume normal activities. Free at last, but everyday seemed like an eternity. I was convinced that the contractions, which returned promptly, would start labor and we’d be cooing over our new little bundle as soon as my feet hit the floor. Well, at my 39 week appointment, that obviously hadn’t happened and my doctor was pleading with me to induce. No thanks. I love the mystery of labor and the miracle of delivery. The baby will come when the Lord says it will come.
Two days later, as I walked toward the baseball field to watch Connor and Nate play, I felt my baby let go. Something was protruding from my stomach and, as I pushed it back in, I felt nothing. No resistance, no fight. I didn’t tell anyone, not even my husband. I thought that everything would be fine after a good night of rest. The next morning, though, I still didn’t feel the baby move. I convinced myself that once I stopped moving around, the contractions would stop and I’d feel movement again. Not the case. What if I eat something sweet? Nope, no kicks. I went to my OB for a sonogram. As I waited for my turn, I poked and prodded every inch of my stomach, praying for a response. By the time I saw my baby on the sonogram, I knew. The usually snippy sonographer took measurements without saying a word and then said, “Sweety, I’ll be right back.� Sweety? Did she just call me Sweety? She came back in, my doctor right behind her. He took my hand and the tears started flowing. I didn’t need to hear it, but he said it anyway. You have comforted your baby as much as you’ll be able to here on earth. Then they turned on the fetal heartbeat monitor and there was silence with a flat line on the monitor. Oh, the pain was too much for a mother’s heart. My husband was missing in action. The nursed called every number, even co-workers but couldn’t get him. I sat in an examination room, the same one I sat in the first time I heard this baby’s heartbeat, alone and heartbroken. Almost 2 hours later, Bryan called my cell phone. He apparently went to pick Connor and Nate up for their game that night but was greeted by my dear friend with a devastating look. I told him over the phone that our baby was gone.
Our pastor, my friend’s husband, drove Bryan to the office and came in to pray with us. I was struck by the absence of a miracle in his petitions. The Lord led him to pray for comfort and nothing more. Our baby was gone and no miracles were coming. Labor was induced that evening around 9pm. At 10pm, Bryan and I gave the most heartwrenching news to Connor and Nate. I remember Bryan’s anticipation beforehand, as he read the Word and prayed incessantly that the Lord would give him the right words. When Connor walked in to the delivery room he exclaimed, “This is so exciting!� Bless his heart. He had no idea. Those words were like daggers in Bryan’s heart and he broke down. I don’t remember anything but those sweet little faces after that. It was a week later that Bryan told me that the Lord spoke through me that night, not him.
We sent the boys home and Lincoln Charles Hearron was born shortly after midnight. He was so beautiful. Bryan and I held him for hours, crying over his sweet face and delicate limbs. The next morning, Connor, Nate, and some of our extended family came to the hospital. No one thought twice about holding Lincoln, counting his toes, and stroking his cheeks. He was and will always be a part of our family and an important part of our lives. We left the hospital without him, the same day we held him for the first time, but Lincoln has richly impacted our lives for eternity. We can’t be who we were before those fateful days. The Lord has shown us too much to deny the change. He has loved us through the most unlikely sources and provided for us in unimaginable ways. Oh, how great is His love and care. I am so thankful for all He has given me, even the sorrow, for sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better Eccl. 7:3 Amen!


This video is a labor of love from a daddy to his son. It was shared with family and friends at a memorial for Lincoln. We pray that it reveals even an ounce of the love we have for Lincoln and the magnitude of love the Lord has for us.
Click Here to play the video