May 24th, 2011….we find out we are expecting our
second baby!!! Beyond excited, for all
of our family!! Preparation, love,
bonding…was immediate. I experienced ALL
preggo symptoms!
Early June, routine blood work came back with a possibility
of having a rare blood disorder known as the kell antibody. Very rare blood type that is mainly seen in
people whom have had blood transfusions.
I did not, so testing on my hubby began.
By July, routine obgyn visits were now filled with weekly trips to the
maternal/fetal blood specialist for high quality doplar sono scans. Hubby showed to carry one copy of the kell
antigen on his red blood cells, so that meant baby had a 50/50 chance that he
would get the kell antigen too.
Treatments would consist of highly skilled doctors that specialize in
in-utero blood transfusions, as my body’s blood, now affected with the kell
antibody from the delivery of our first son who is kell positive, would ultimately
destroy baby’s red blood cells causing severe anemia and death. Prayer time was in full swing. An amniocentesis and doplar scans proved baby
was growing wonderfully and he was kell negative! Which meant he would not have to undergo
in-utero blood transfusions!
Planning for baby, envisioning our future as a family,
naming him…Maximus Frederick. Got a lot
of slack from family for the name Maximus, but I loved it! I knew this was Maximus, I felt him, I bonded
with him…he is my Max.
Early October brought more blood problems, now; my blood
platelet count was very low. Normal ranges
150-400…mine 74. Needed to plan for a
VBAC for delivery. Changed doctors,
began lab testing and monitoring weekly with the hematologist. Once more, prayers. I began researching, educating myself, fully
taking on EVERY ounce of help that would bring a successful VBAC, as I would
not be able to use any form of medical intervention with blood platelets this
low.
My Max is a peaceful baby.
He would roll around, kick me in my ribs, and have his booty pushed into
my lungs! He would move and move… then I
would say…”Look he is moving”… and then he would stop! I always teased that he would get stage
fright, that he didn’t like being on the spot!
Much like his father!! Max
recognized his daddy’s voice, every time he would talk, Max would move!!! The night time was filled with uncomfortable
positions, insomnia, and yes….mommy and Max time! The night time was when my baby boy liked to
rock and roll!!! He liked music, me
singing, reading books, walking, stretching, chiropractic care, home cooked
food, nachos and cookies!!
Tuesday, November 29th… sono showed my baby boys
face!! First time!!! Other sonos he just showed the back of his
head and his profile. But this time I
got to see my sweet boy!! I remember
saying, oh my gosh, he looks just like Alex did in his sonograms!! Doctor measured him to be 5lbs and 5oz!! Needless to say, she was impressed and we
began discussing natural induction methods to aide in my ability to deliver him
VBAC. So, natural induction methods to
be introduced and approved, Tuesday, December 13th.
Sunday, Dec. 4th….at my parents folding
laundry. Asked for a coke to drink to
onset some movement. Was uneasy that I
had not felt him move….drank the coke…. Jiggled the belly, and he
moved!!!! I researched 35 weeks pregnant
and found it was not uncommon for movement to slow down as baby is growing and
mostly sleeping due to lack of room.
Monday, December 5th. I was “different”. I was not worried, not uneasy, not scared,
not anxious….just “different”. I
literally sat in one spot on the couch for most of the day. I attributed it to a busy work weekend and
being 35 weeks pregnant! I can remember
reaching for a glass out of the cabinet, and it fell to the ground in slow
motion. My husband asked “are you
alright?” with a grin…I said, “I just feel different”.
This is where it gets hard to talk about….
Monday late night, possibly by now, early Tuesday morning…I
awoke from sleep very quickly. I got out
of bed, walked down the hall and into the kitchen to once more…drink a coke…I
drank ½ the can, and then got the ice cold water jug. I drank it quickly, walked back to my bed and
laid down. I began jiggling my belly
once more. Pushing, praying…”Jesus make
him move, please, just tell him to move”.
A calm voice “He’s not going to move, but it’s ok”. The next thing I know… I was waking up. Getting my oldest ready for school, I put a
call into my doc to come in for the better be safe than sorry visit… as I just
wanted confirmation he was just sleeping.
And deep down, I never thought anything was wrong.
Hubby and I both at the doctor, searching for a
heartbeat. She couldn’t find one, so we
moved quickly to the sono room. My hubby
had a look of acknowledgement of something I was not privy to yet. I saw my beautiful Max, laying there, once
more the back of his head. As the words
touched my lips…the doctor confirmed it…”Oh honey, this baby doesn’t have a
heartbeat”.
Shock, utter confusion, surreal, out of body, hit by a 2x4,
horror, nightmare, not real, this couldn’t be happening. I screamed, I wanted them to take the words back;
I blamed myself…what ifs… The doctor
graciously comforted us with words of this was not your fault. You didn’t do this.
At hospital only two and half hours later, registering for a
c-section for “fetal demise”. I hated
those words. I never thought a baby
could die, not mine, and he did. My
heart was shattered. I knew he was safe
in Heaven but my mind just couldn’t comprehend what was happening. I now faced another c-section, by my
choosing. Blood platelet count…not
good…27. I was scared, the doctors all
came in to say this wasn’t good… I would have to go home and remain pregnant
until I started labor on my own, up to two weeks! I knew I couldn’t do it, I was ready for him
to get out, as harsh as that sounds… I wanted to see his body, hold him, and be
face to face with my love that I lost.
Prayers….we stayed overnight and retested my blood early the next
morning. In less than 18 hours, my
platelet count went from 27 to 87… an acceptable range for them to administer a
spinal. Wednesday, December 7th,
2011, C-section….my baby delivered, no cries would I hear, no baby to put on my
breasts. We enjoyed the day with family,
we held Max, we cried, we prayed, and prayed and prayed. We said hello, then we said goodbye.
The next two nights in the hospital came a real
darkness. I can look back now and I can
truly say… the devil does prey on the weak.
My mind was my enemy, and so brought insomnia and anxiety. I would shake uncontrollably and sleep maybe
20 minutes here and there over several days.
Prayers…and prayers. I was
scared, I felt alone and afraid.
Upon entering my recently decorated Christmas home…. I
prayed. I didn’t want my home to be a
place I feared…his nursery up, ready for him to come home, his stocking hanging
on the wall, his car seat ready in the living room. I prayed.
I walked straight to his nursery and I nearly fell to my knees. My husband supporting me, I cried. I felt him there…not just Max, but Jesus, my
grandfather, my granny, my gramps, my sister, my husband’s grandparents whom I
never have met, they were all there welcoming me home. It was a presence that was so powerful and I
thanked Him for it. I was honored that
He cared and He came.
Intense grieving, with a body still healing from the
c-section, my mind was just “still”. I fully can relate to Romans 8:26. The spirit himself did intercede for me, and
prayed to God with my groaning. With no
words, only soul wrenching anguish that would cry out with bellowing and
moaning awake and in slumber. I had one
day when I went in solitary to my bedroom closet to scream into a towel. “I don’t understand this God! I hate this God! I don’t like this plan God!” “I want these doubts, these fears, and this
evil in my mind to go away!!” “I don’t
want them Lord, I give them to you, please help me!” “I trust you Lord, please just give me the
assurance that my son is with you, that he is saved”. At that time, the devil put thoughts in my
mind that he knew would challenge my faith….he didn’t think I could take it,
but I did, because Jesus carried my burdens for me when I asked Him to. Real thoughts that were planted by the devil
“your baby didn’t breath here on earth so he wasn’t born and wasn’t saved” “your baby wasn’t beautiful because of his
skin blemishes” (“sloughing” due to being in the womb without blood and oxygen
flowing)
Only hours after my prayer, my screams for help, He gave me
mercy. Like in the book “Heaven is for
Real”, I received a power shot from God.
Instantly, I felt peace, understanding.
The voice on December 6th…”He’s not going to move, but it’s
ok”…That was Jesus at my bedside. He
already had my sweet boy in His arms and he gave me mercy with His
compassion. To receive this directly
from God….an unmistakable power of peace beyond all comprehension.
I have devoted my daily affairs to His will… I pray that He
will lead me where I need to be and what I need to do and say when I am
there. Every day, He leads me. I do ask in prayer that my Max be a part of
this direction He will have me on and He has given me my request!!
Day of Max’s memorial, I needed prayer… I was anxious about
my demeanor, my words, and the experience entirely. No one wants to bury their child. As we drove around the chapel at the funeral
home, my husband said “where do we go in?”… I said “I don’t know”…instantly,
before my words were finished, the exact door we needed to go in, opened. No one there, but it opened for us. The Holy Spirit did fill my words and actions
that day, and we had a beautiful service.
Through my experience, I keep hearing how “strong” I
am. Early on, I dared not take credit,
as it was SOLEY God carrying me through each second of the day(s). Now, I do believe I am strong, thanks be to
God. Jesus has my attention FULLY! Where my faith once existed, now…I come
before Him with faith and TRUST! I know
my son has a beautiful purpose beyond my earthly understanding, and his death
will remain inside God’s beautiful mystery box.
In February, I went to a support group for other mother’s
enduring neonatal death. Knowing God
wanted me there, I was full of hopeful expectations. I went in thinking one way, and I left
feeling more down and as if my positivity was not accepted. My ears heard harsh things and my mind and
soul was once more confused. I prayed
that night, “Why did you have me go, I knew for sure you wanted me there”. The next few days were hard…I couldn’t
understand my purpose in going. Only a
few days later, I met again with a more intimate group of “angel mommies” and
there, I learned that they thought I was inspirational. They couldn’t believe I was where I was with
my acceptance and peace and they encouraged me to come back, because they want
the positivity there. I continued to
pray, as I felt honored to hear those things, but unsure that I was really
ready to be the one providing support for others. Being inspired by my journey is one thing,
but supporting others is a different level, and I was unsure that I was healed
and ready for that. I began thinking
that in order to be “saved” I must suffer the rest of my life…proving my worth
for entrance into His Kingdom, to be able to live with Him and my son
again. So, I once more prayed, always
asking if Max could play a part in my direction. I awoke the next morning with His words
again…”You have been washed with the blood of Christ”. Peace and reassurance for a weak soul.
Then, I saw a friend's facebook status about her friend, Shellie, coming
to give a testimony on hope the next day at church. I attended, with my husband and eldest
son, Alex. I remember Shellie mentioning she
was here for someone in particular, that God showed her a woman on the floor
crying. My eyes filled with tears, but
before any actually swelled up…an utter peace swept over my body. I knew she was meaning me, but I humbled
myself thinking, I’m not that important, there is someone else here whom she is
talking about. I decided to hang around
after her testimony. I wanted to meet
her, see if there was a “spark”.
Needless to say, there was… and I know fully…God showed me weeping
on the floor to her. Although I have peace and
His full attention on where He wants me…it is still day by day. My pain in the absence of my son here on
earth is unbearable at times. On my
knees regularly…He helps me.
Now, to share my sweet Max for Christ…its exactly what I
requested! God is good. He is full of compassion, mercy, and
grace. I am forever grateful. I look forward to worshiping Him and His glory
everyday for the rest of my life. I pray
for Max to remain a part in my witnessing, I pray that I will teach Alex to be
a Christ centered and loving man. I pray
for my husband and myself to grow stronger and stronger in Christ. And we are.
Thank you Shellie for listening when God spoke to you too.
~Deborah Samples
Wife and mother to Alex and angel baby Max
