Sharing and Healing

In our first post, just after we found out about Abigail's prognosis, I mentioned that we weren't telling everybody yet. I wanted to share the news in person with my pregnant sister, and at first we thought we weren't going to see her until after Christmas. We did share the news with local family on my husband's side, and with our ward, or church congregation, via our bishop. We told him he could tell anybody he felt inspired to tell, so I got a wonderful visit from the Relief Society presidency. Those four ladies just listened and shared with me, and that buoyed me up. I received a special gift from my Aunt Karen that I will always cherish. Two poems, one she wrote, and one that was written on her own baby's funeral program. And a figurine of a baby wrapped in angel's wings. I cried when I held it. And then I made this picture of it:

Our amazing neighbors, who are familiar with this type of loss, brought us the Christmas gift of a book, Tear Soup. This was a wonderful way to share with our kids about grief and loss. Like the parables of Jesus, it can be read at many different levels, with children understanding just what they need to and adults understanding a little more.

Goodreads

Mostly, we coped with our fears and sorrows in the temple. Our goal was to go once a week, and we've done that with the exception of finals week. The last day of class for me was December 12, 2019.

December 13th was my appointment with Maternal Fetal Medicine, where we found out about Abigail's ABS.

December 14th: Today we had just the family adventure I'd been craving! Thanks to friends and neighbors for the tree tag and helping us scout out good spots for trees. We only got stuck in the snow once and teamwork got us out of that fix. We passed someone on the road with a tree up top and asked him where he'd gotten it. That led us to the right area, but it still took a lot of walking to find the right tree. Ben is feeling under the weather and Corbin doesn't tolerate the cold very well yet, so I took those two back to the car to warm up and then we waited for our returning champions and prayed. Prayer works!! They came back with a beautiful tree!

Then we watched Frozen in the living room by a nice fire and sipped hot cocoa as we recovered from our adventure.

December 16th, I took my Neurobiology final early in the morning. I got an A- for the semester. I took a long nap and then finished sewing the stockings I had been making all month for the family:

December 17th, I made myself study for my Chemistry 105 final, but it was not nearly enough and I knew that.

December 18th, I took the final in six hours and passed Chemistry 105 with a C. Under the circumstances, I don't think I could have done better.

The plan was to tell my pregnant sister about Abigail on December 20th, in person. It didn't happen exactly that way. We weren't sure she was going to be able to make it for her planned trip to SLC Temple, so we ended up asking for a video call and telling her that way. There were lots of tears. I may have cried more telling her than I did telling anyone else. She asked the same thing I had asked when I first learned. "So is there no hope?" I think it's human nature when we receive bad news to hold onto any possible silver linings. It's very hard when those silver linings get thinner and thinner on the edges of the storm clouds, and yet the thinnest silver linings are also the brightest and sharpest in contrast.

Once she knew, I told the rest of my siblings and my grandma. Each conversation was both difficult and relieving, just to have the secret out. We told them we had bought a cemetery plot for Abigail that afternoon and that they were welcome to come to a graveside service for her, though we understood if they couldn't since it would have to be a last-minute invitation. We have no idea when she will arrive, so that makes planning a funeral difficult, but we wanted everyone in the family to know they were invited to this spot. It's right by a tree and the nearest grave is another baby who left too soon. Eventually, this area will fill up, but for now it is Abigail's little spot.

One of the beautiful things I've been able to do is to buy Abigail a dress. It may be the only thing she ever wears, but at least it's something. Gift giving is definitely one of my love languages, and it's hard for me to be having my first girl and not buying a hundred dresses for her. But if she could only wear one dress, this is the one I would choose for her.

When five-year-old Daniel saw it, he said it was for ballet and asked if Abigail would be going to ballet with me. I told him she probably wouldn't stay very long and that she had to get back to heaven. He said that he hoped she would stay a little while and go to ballet with me. I cried after he left the room. The ballet slipper necklace will be our mother-daughter matching thing. One necklace for her and one for me. I've already started wearing mine, and it makes me feel even more bonded to her. My daughter is real, she is alive, and she matters. Long after other people forget she ever existed, she will still be in my heart, as alive as ever.

My sister ended up talking with her husband and making the trip work! She and my mom came together for a visit. It was so nice that we had already shared the news about Abigail with both of them, so our visit didn't have to be entirely about that. The plan was to go to the Salt Lake City Temple, where my sister was sealed 13 years ago, before it closes next week for years of renovations. So on December 21, 2019, we went to the Salt Lake Temple, our two pregnant bellies making everybody nervous. We spent about 9 hours in the temple, doing multiple ordinances for the same few family names they had brought.

It was my first time in the Salt Lake Temple for anything since Shayna's wedding. And it was the first time I had done every ordinance from baptism to sealings in one day. The crowds were inspiring, but it meant long waits at times and we didn't finish sealings until nearly 8pm. I'm grateful for the chance to see a live endowment session and to spend so much time in the Lord's holy house when I need all the holiness I can get in my heart.

I'm also very thankful for my family.

My mother gave me a beautiful Christmas gift from her heart. She painted Abigail from a picture of me when I was a little girl. We won't know what her spirit's face looks like until heaven, but it's fun to imagine which features she might have...

My sister brought an important and practical gift, a breast pump. This will be the first time I won't be able to nurse my baby. The day I realized that, I cried so much. I will have all this love, and all this milk--just a representation of that love--with nowhere to go. I'm so grateful for this gift, which will make it possible for me to, possibly, share what I have with others. Maybe it won't all have to be lost.

Thanks to those who responded to Bill's facebook post today about Abigail. We still have a long road ahead of us in being Abigail's parents, but sharing it makes the road less lonely.