Ivy Hope

What I have to share is something that most people who know me don't know about.  It is a topic that some might find a little morbid, but I still need to share.

I will make a very long story as short as I can.  My last pregnancy was a total surprise.  We weren't sure if we were going to have any more children, and after some trauma to my uterus with my 3rd, I was warned that a 4th child could be dangerous.  I found out I was pregnant when we were preparing for my husband's first deployment to Iraq.  It was not my timing, and I was terrified at how I would handle everything alone.  Still, it was welcome and a beautiful gift.

I went in early on to see the doctor because I was having some cramping.  The ultrasound showed 2 babies.  We were having twins!  I was shocked, but still joyous.  I was to come back in the next week after some blood work to check levels.  We were excited, and we chose names for girl/girl, boy/boy, and girl/boy.  Evelynn (Evy) and Ivy.  Ethan and Nathan.  Evelynn and Ethan. 

The next week I went in as planned and was told the numbers didn't look good.  A quick portable ultrasound showed that the entire pregnancy, both babies, were "not viable."  A rude, callous doctor shoved a box of tissues at me, now crying, saying I shouldn't be sad because I was lucky to have 3 living children at home, and started quoting statistics at me that 1 out of every x number of pregnancies ends in miscarriage, so I was basically a statistic and with having 3 healthy pregnancies, it was just "my turn" to have this happen.

Really long story short, after being told about the D&C I would require, they sent me to radiology for a clearer ultrasound to "confirm their findings" and I went home (I was alone, with hubby at home with the other girls) and picked up my rock and support, dropped the girls at the neighbors, and we headed back for the devastating confirmation.

I did not want to look at the screen and see my "not viable" babies, so I turned my head.  Through my tears, I heard Nick say, "Is that what I think it is?" and the tech said to wait just a moment and she would explain.  She asked me to look at the screen and I remember telling her that I couldn't do it.  She told me I needed to see this, so I looked and there was one baby, not living, and one baby with a beating heart.  She printed out that picture, with the little waves at the bottom that showed a heartbeat, and told me to take it back to my doctor.  I did, and he just said, "Well, sometimes things work out for the better." 

So, how do you grieve for a lost child, when you still have one in your womb, heart beating, growing and thriving?  The short answer, at least for me, is you don't.  You are happy and relieved and grateful and thankful. 

How, when that child is born, and despite complications, is alive and well and healthy, do you mourn for the baby that wasn't along side of her?  Again, for me, you don't.

We went on with life, and while I still felt like someone was missing, I just pushed that feeling aside and was happy with the gifts I was given.  Evy was a miracle, there is no doubt about that in my mind.  I clung to that and anything else fell by the wayside.

I didn't know that I had to grieve and mourn.  It wasn't something we talked much about.  When All Souls Day rolled around last year, we talked to the girls about it, and we had a chart where we put the names of lost loved ones.  A family member had experienced a miscarriage, and we put that name on the chart.  Questions were asked on whether we had ever experienced something like that, and that is when we told the girls about Ivy. 

During my recent journey, I had time to grieve and mourn.  I had more inside of me than I knew was even there, and it felt so good to let it out.  Ivy was memorialized, and I have a certificate of life with her name on it:  Ivy Hope.  We planned to tell the girls, but hadn't yet found a time.

Yesterday, part of Evy's school work was reading about the Lazarus story from the Bible.  We talked about how death is not death, but a change in life, and how, when we live as images of God, our souls are separated from our bodies, but our souls continue to live on in Heaven.  We talked about how people we have lost are in Heaven.  She started crying and out of her precious little mouth came the words "I miss my twin!" 

I decided it was as good a time as any to talk to the girls about the memorial. I showed Evy the little angel I was given in her sister's memory, and she held it and hugged it and cried, mourning her sister.  Everyone shed some tears, and we decided school was done for the day as we were all too emotional to carry on.  Hannah remarked that it was amazing that Evy felt such a connection to someone she had never known.  Sophia said, "But she did know her.  They were in Mommy's womb together."  How right she is. 

Ivy Hope has not breathed in a single breath on this earth, and I have never held her or kissed her, but she is very much alive, and I know she is looking down on us and watching over us and I know a day will come when we will be reunited with her.  I do believe that Ivy gave up her life so that her sister could live and grow and thrive, and I will always thank her for that sacrifice.