February 26, Annalee's Birthday

Today is the 30th anniversary

of the birth of our daughter, Annalee.

She weighed 7 lbs 9 oz and was the splitting image of Misty and Tiffany

when they were born. When I say image, it literally was just a momentary image for me. I recognize now that I was in major denial and somehow thought that if I didn't look, or touch, or allow myself to feel, that this really hadn't happened. The reality was that I went to my Dr’s appointment on Friday and she had a healthy heartbeat. By Monday morning when I went back, her heart had stopped beating. It was a very somber drive from the Dr's office to the hospital. I remember a very nice man in the elevator saying, "Well it looks like it's time for you to have your baby." I think I may have said something about not hearing a heartbeat, but at that point I still didn't really believe it myself. Gary came and labor was induced. When the time for delivery came, the nurse, who was also a good friend from high school, asked me if I would like to hold our baby. I took one glance, shook my head, and looked away. Gary went over and touched her but I did not. I have to say that I was haunted by my actions for a long time. To realize that I had not even held my daughter and given what little I could was very painful to remember.

Procedures in hospitals have changed now, and even when a mother or father are in denial like I was, they routinely take a picture or cut a lock of hair and tell the parents that they will keep them and that when they are ready they can come and get them. Most end up coming back. I would love to have a picture, a lock of hair, something tangible that was a part of my baby. Many parents and families now spend the day holding their child and taking pictures. They have funerals. These have all been good changes in how stillbirths are perceived in the medical profession. We were asked if we wanted to bury the baby or if we wanted them to take care of her. Fortunately we had the presence of mind to say we wanted to bury her, or I would have great regrets. I want to write of this experience for several reasons, but one of them is not to make anyone feel sad or sorrowful. The first reason is to give honor to a daughter that I did not, and even still do not give proper recognition to. Second, to record in my history a major event in our family's life. And third, to perhaps make a difference for someone who goes through a similar experience.

I will write later of the medical events leading up to Annalee’s birth.

Of the changing spiritual understanding that has come.

Of the blessings that we gained through this experience.

But, for today I just want to share something that I did not find out until about 8 years ago. This same friend, Cathy, who was the delivery room nurse when I gave birth to Annalee was with me at the funeral of another friend’s baby who had lived only a few days. Seeing the little body struck me very hard and I was feeling very emotional. I don’t believe I had ever talked with Cathy about our experience, but here we were at another baby’s funeral, and I mentioned how badly I had always felt that I had not held or acknowledged Annalee in any way. She then said, “You know, I never told you this, but after you had all left I went into the stairwell and held your little girl for about an hour.” When I heard that I knew that both I and my daughter had been given such a great gift by a beautiful friend. I had long since realized that I had just done the best I could with what I knew, and had found peace with it. But learning that my friend had given my baby what I could not at that time, was a truly gift from God.