Abigail's Gifts

Not everyone can say that they have baby sister in heaven. I can. And I love her so very much. I gave her two very special gifts. 

Above is a picture of my two stuffed animals. The one on the left is the one from my birth. I once lost it and my mom bought me another one (the one on the right). I eventually found the stuffed animal that I got from my birth. I always wondered what I would do with the second one. Now I know exactly what to do with it. I am going to give it to my sister. I know that even though she can't really play with it, I have something to remind me of her. I will never lose it again the first one again.

Above is a letter that I wrote to Abigail. I am going to keep the pencil somewhere safe. Here is the text if you can't see it:

Abigail,

You mean everything to me. You give me so much hope. I love you. I love you so so much! I know that even though you probably won't live long on this earth, you will live forever in my heart. I can't wait to see you in heaven someday.

Till we meet again,

Sam Lantz

I know that God loves Abby and I and that families can be together forever. These gifts will help me remember Abigail and keep me close to her. No one can take my hope away.

Hope, Not What I Thought it Meant

Source: https://pixabay.com/photos/hands-open-candle-candlelight-1926414/

I used to hope that my sister would miraculously survive. Now I know that that is not what I should be hoping for. Now I hope that Abby will help our family become spiritually stronger. 

I did a short study on the word "hope".

In 2 Nephi 31:20 it says:

"...press forward, having a perfect brightness of hope..."

That scripture teaches me that if you lose everything, you can still have hope, and if you have hope, you have faith, and if you have faith,  you have God,  if you have God, you have everything you need.

Hope can also be defined as "a feeling of expectation and desire for something certain to happen."

I used a search engine that shows the origin of certain words. I looked up "hope" and this is what I found:

"Some suggest a connection with hop....on the notion of 'leaping in expectation' [Klein]."

"Late old English hopa 'confidence in the future,' especially 'God or Christ as a basis for hope,'..." 

There is also "Old Frisian and Middle Dutch hope, Danish haab, [and] Dutch hoop"

I also realized that "hope" sounded like "hoop" since the formal is eternal and can never be taken from you.

I also like the explanation hop for "leaping in expectation" listed above.

Words that are similar to hope are faith and trust (but not pixiedust!).

Here is a quote that I found:

The people of the Earth Kingdom are proud and strong. They can endure anything, as long as they have hope.

-Prince Zuko; Avatar, The Last Airbender 

Now I see that I was hoping for the wrong thing. I now know what the true meaning is. I know that Abigail and I will see each other again. I hope that she helps my family to be worthy enough for the Savior's return.

Abigail's Shower

We didn't have a baby shower for Abigail Réileen, but we have been so touched by all of your gifts! One of my favorites was from a little girl also named Abigail who came to our house and did a ballet dance for us. 🩰 Made me cry. We've received paintings and pictures, blankets and baby jewelry, a Christmas ornament to start our collection, flowers and other tokens of love and support. Another really meaningful one was the good friend who built Abigail's casket with Bill Lantz. We will always remember your kindness. 

As we begin the countdown from 7 days to Abigail's birth day next Tuesday, I am cherishing every movement and hiccup and hoping for all the memory making we are dreaming of. 

I can't really imagine life without Abigail, but on the other hand, I can't wait to meet her and hold her in my arms at last. 

Lots of mixed emotions. 

Thank you for waiting with us.  Your prayers have given us so much love and strength.❤️❤️❤️❤️

A birth plan, a funeral program, and hope

It's Sunday again, and we are 36 weeks along. Friday was Valentine's Day so Daniel (5) has valentines on the mind. He made this little heart during church and said, "This is for Abigail." 

It's moments like this that I remember how incredibly blessed we have been as a family. When we announced our pregnancy to the kids, they were all excited because they love babies. It's precious to my heart that they see a new addition to the family as cause for celebration.

We were all hoping for a girl, but the boys were the most vocal about it. Sad to say, it might be partially because of well-meaning friends and strangers saying things that make them feel incomplete without a sister, like, "Are you hoping for a sister this time?"

Even after we broke the news that Abigail would ultimately become an angel for our family, the level of enthusiasm for Abigail hasn't diminished. Finally, they have a sister. And even though she isn't staying long, she will always be their sister. They know we get to keep her forever. I'm grateful for that sure knowledge.

This afternoon we put the finishing touches on our birth plan and printed a few copies so the whole birth team can be on the same page. Once that was done, we worked a little while on the funeral program and I asked my parents to sing one of my favorite songs for the event. All of this while Abigail Réileen makes her presence felt with kicks and punches in my tummy. I love her so much already, we all do.

The guiding principle of our home right now is hope. We know what can and probably will go wrong when Abigail is born. There is no false hope, but there's a kind of hope nevertheless. It's a hope that is born of our love for her.

We hope everyone will get to meet her who needs to, and that we will be able to make memories with her after her birth.

We hope to celebrate her life with music and prayer and poetry.

We hope she will always have a place in our family and never be forgotten.

We hope that knowing her and loving her changes us in all the ways she would have it do.

We hope this difficult goodbye brings all of us closer together.

We hope in Christ we shall all be reunited in a higher, holier sphere where none are sick or wounded and all are restored to perfect health.

I have struggled against hope throughout this journey, this past week especially. I have cried and cried out because the waiting seems unbearable. Not this waiting for her birth, but the promise of more waiting after her death. I have wondered aloud to my husband how I can go on after such heartache. 

In answer, I have heard the voice of God saying, "Live for the Lord," and I have been humbled because I am a selfish creature. I always think I know what's best.

Remember the painting of the pioneer woman that takes up an entire wall in the Payson temple?

I told how I had heard the hymn in my head before realizing the painting's title was from that hymn: "Blessed, Honored Pioneer." Today I went to church and the opening hymn happened to be this song, titled, "They, the Builders of the Nation," Hymn #36 in the LDS Hymnal. Each verse's chorus is slightly different but ends with the line, "Blessed, honored pioneer." No wonder I had thought it was the hymn's title. As we sang it today, I realized that I revere my pioneer ancestors exactly for the incredible faith they showed while suffering the deaths of so many beloved friends and family members, while facing death themselves. And I realized that to future generations, we are the pioneers. Suddenly the song became a call to action for me, like the words I had almost seen in my mind's eye written on my bedroom wall: "Live for the Lord."

My eyes went to the bottom of the hymnal page and I knew I had to read the scripture associated with the hymn.

It is Doctrine & Covenants 64: 33-34

I couldn't help the tears that formed in my eyes. This must have been a scripture that gave comfort to my ancestors. They had to have been so tired of being persecuted, driven from place to place, and despised wherever they went. They had to have been weary of the daily work that never seemed to be enough, while many of them lost their children or husbands or wives to mob violence, disease, exposure and hunger as they crossed the plains.

In the super convenient modern world, I had found myself complaining to my husband that I am tired. And I am. I am so tired. But there is no way I could be more world-weary than they were.

"Be not weary in well doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great."

Abigail is a very small thing. She is tiny. But she has carved out a large space in our hearts that drives us to be more than we were, to be worthy to see her again. And that is a great thing.

Verse 34 reminded me of the message I felt like I heard or saw, to "Live for the Lord."

"Behold, the Lord requireth the heart and a willing mind." It ends with the promise of good things to those who give their all.

There's another scripture that comes to my heart as I ponder on these things: D&C 122:8

"The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than He?"

Of course, even these gifts of understanding don't make me totally okay or past my grief. In fact, sometimes they are met at first with bitterness. But I can't deny they are gifts. They are the grace that is sufficient to the day. They teach me line upon line and give me strength to take the next steps in my life. They give me that precious ingredient for a life of joy:

Hope.

Less Than Two Weeks Left with Our Abigail Réileen

We made it! 35 weeks is considered term. Abigail Réileen is still inside, growing and kicking with those beautiful feet. She is every bit as strong as my other babies. We still have more than a week until the scheduled C-birth. I'm happy for that because we aren't emotionally ready to say goodbye yet.

Our last ultrasound of Abigail at 35 weeks, her right foot from heel to toe

Two days ago we had our last appointment with Dr. Feltovich. She is a doctor of maternal fetal medicine at the hospital where we will be delivering Abigail Réileen. She's the one who diagnosed Abigail with ABS and helped us to plan the right birth for her. Her kindness and understanding have been indispensable over the past few months.

This week I started packing our hospital bags, which I haven't had to do in 13 years! Abigail has a whole bag separate from mine because we have so many special memories we plan to make with her. I'm grateful for that opportunity. There are people from three different organizations coming to help us make memories, just out of the goodness of their hearts: ❤️ Angel Watch, Common Bonds, and Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.

Less than two weeks remain.

In the last trimester of every pregnancy up to this point, I have always reached a point of physical discomfort that made the upcoming birth a can't-wait-for-it moment. In some cases, I got so impatient, I took matters into my own hands and tried to spur labor with natural remedies. Of course it never worked because babies have their own ideas. Sam was due on Valentine's Day, which is his great Grandma Joyce's birthday, but instead he came a week early when my water spontaneously broke. Corbin, our current youngest, was due on my birthday but decided to stay on the inside for three extra days, much to my chagrin. The only child who came almost on his due date was Daniel, who was born more or less on his due date, the morning after Memorial Day. We sang Amazing Grace and Danny Boy during the night-long labor.

Five natural births, four of which were home births and one of which was unassisted, have taught me that I am much stronger than I ever could have imagined, and also less patient. Waiting on the baby is one of the struggles of the last trimester. It feels very strange this time to be scheduled for a C-section and to know when that day is going to be. It's also different because, rather than hoping to see the end of this pregnancy soon, I wish it would just go on forever. Even feeling braxton hicks contractions makes me nervous. We are still actively making plans for the birth.

I asked the mothers and grandmothers in the anencephaly facebook support group for children's book titles to read to Abigail on the day she is born. Whether she is born alive or sleeping, we want to read to her on her birthday. Someone suggested the book On the Night You Were Born. My first thought when I saw the title was that she will be born at 7:30 in the morning. I know that. The pattern for most of my children's births is that I labored for a day and a night and they were born near dawn, between 3am and 6am. The one exception was Layne, who was born at 1:30pm, but that was just because he didn't want to go to church that Sunday. (I kid, I kid.)

I think the book I'm going to bring is Love You Forever by Robert Munsch. That's the book I've been reading to my children all along, and it wouldn't be right if Abigail missed out on that tradition. I recently learned that the author actually wrote the song for his own babies who died, and then built the story around the song. Isn't that amazing? The grief and love of one father resonates in a song that millions of parents and grandparents around the world have sung to their little ones!

It goes so well with a message I've been getting from heaven lately, about ripples. I think we all think it would be so amazing to change the world. How many songs are written with that very theme? Change the world! We want to feel powerful and meaningful, like our lives mean something. It's one of the hardest things about infant loss--having a child who has rocked your world and yet nobody else even knows he or she existed. That feels wrong because meaning is meant to be shared. Robert Munsch found a way to do that in his book that has forever enshrined the lullaby he sang to his two sweet little babies who didn't stay long enough to utter a single word.

But the concept of ripples operates on the understanding that it doesn't take a big splash to make an impact. Even a tiny ripple, stretched out across the water, can reach distant shores. Somehow we are all impacting one another in this way, with a smile, a phone call, or a thoughtful gift. Even with a disagreement and forgiveness. We are forever touching each other's lives. Even just hearing about one person choosing a higher path can inspire some stranger to do the same.

On Sunday I couldn't go to church. In addition to my body being just plain uncomfortable at 35 weeks and 185 lbs, I'm getting over some congestion in my sinuses. When my husband came home, he handed me a book, lent by some church friends. It was Blaine M. Yorgason's book, One Tattered Angel.

I read it all on Sunday, finishing it by dinner that night. It's about a baby girl that comes to them as they are serving as newborn foster parents. She has hydrocephalus. The story is all about ripples, how each person who meets baby Charity is lifted and changed by her sweet spirit, and even how preparing to receive Charity as a family brought them closer together. I could relate to this on some levels, though their story is fundamentally different from ours because they are adoptive parents and their journey with her began after her birth.

Also, our Abigail likely won't live nearly as long as their Charity did, and that means that all of Abigail's impact is being made in the very short time of her growth in my womb and her birth. Maybe she will continue to have an impact in our lives, if we are attuned to more spiritual things, since she will be with us in spirit. We take it on faith that this is true. It hurts that Abigail won't have much time to make an impact on others, but I have been touched by the few people who have told me that learning about Abigail's situation helped them to see their own children in a new light.

The way ripples work, we will probably not even know all the people she has touched with her short life and with the stories we tell about her. It's another thing we'll have to take on faith. We do know that every child of God has a purpose, and Abigail is a child of God. She has changed me, and I believe our whole family will be forever changed because she came to our family. If the song is true that claims, "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return," then at least Abigail has learned the greatest thing. And any parent who has lost an infant at any stage of development can have the peace of knowing that their babies were loved and that they also learned the greatest thing.

Born the Same Month as Her Brother

Source: https://pixabay.com/photos/michelangelo-abstract-boy-child-71282/

My birthday is coming up tomorrow (Feb 8th), but I'm not quite as excited for that as I am for Abigail's birth. I used to think that it was coming in March, which was true until Mom decided to have an early one on the 25 of Feburary. "Is that OK?" she asked me. I was astonished. Why would that not be OK? Then it hit me. My mom was born the same month that her older brother was. My uncle's birthday is a day before my mom's. He is exactly 4 years and a day older than her. Now I saw why my mom asked me that question.

I am both excited and nervous for Abigail's birth. Being nervous can be a good thing sometimes. I once went to a Tween Author Boot Camp. I was very nervous. The last thing I expected to happen was that I would win. Those who didn't win were thrown into a pit (I just made that up but it was still pretty scary). I won first place in my age zone. That experience exceeded my expectations greatly. I'm glad I didn't have pride before I knew the results because I would have had less enthusiasm finding out that I won. I believe that being nervous for Abby's birth is a virtue. I know that she will bring love to our family. I know that she will do other great things for us that we just don't know about yet.

Source: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/puzzle-heart-love-two-hearts-1721592/

I can tell that my little sister's birth will be a very special one. I can feel her love and I know that she will never really die. I will always have room in my heart for her. Nothing can give me more peace than to know that she will always be here with me. I am proud to say that I have an angel as a sister. Abby is my angel friend now and forever.

BIRTH UPDATE:

Abigail's birth was very special. You could just feel the love reflecting off of Abby and onto everyone else. She is and was a very special baby and we love her just as much as she loves us.

Searching for Mission and Meaning

Abigail Réileen is very loved. Every day we tell her we love her and I can feel that love like a wave through my body as it travels from my thoughts into her experience in the womb. It's one of the few gifts I get to give to her.

As I seek ways to honor her and also to rediscover purpose, mission, and meaning in my life, I am pleasantly surprised to find that there is something I can do right now in my life as a student at BYU majoring in Neuroscience.

In my path toward graduation, it's time to join a lab. Yesterday I visited with Dr. Stark and discussed what it would take for me to join his lab. He is doing work on the molecular basis of neural tube defects like Anencephaly and Spina bifida. One night when I couldn't sleep, I went to BYU's neuroscience department website and searched the labs and research going on at BYU. When I came across Dr. Stark's brief description of his research, my heart leapt.

Even though Abigail doesn't have classical Anencephaly, because hers was caused by amniotic band syndrome interrupting development of her head, I have gotten to know many other Anencephaly mothers through the process of coping with our initial diagnosis. We have something in common because we have all been told 1) that our babies are going to die, 2) that there is nothing anyone can do, and 3) that it isn't our fault and nobody really knows why it happens. For future pregnancies these women are often prescribed high doses of folate to protect against neural tube defects. But even so, some of them still have a second baby with Anencephaly. Many of them have rainbow babies, a healthy baby after an infant loss, but never stop wondering how their angel baby happened.

I know first-hand how understanding can be a salve for grief. Clarity goes hand in hand with comfort for those of us who just need to know. And knowledge is power, especially if research can find something more in terms of the factors, genetic and environmental, that are leading to this blip in development within the first thirty days of an embryo's life.

When I saw Dr. Stark's research, I felt joyful. An oft-expressed lament in the Anencephaly group is that the medical industry is disinterested in our babies. They often simply recommend termination upon diagnosis, as if it won't feel like as much of a loss if we stop the baby developing before we feel him or her kicking in there. But there's no hope given for the possibility of life, and it feels so wrong that nobody is doing anything to try to save these babies. As a parent all you want to do is protect your child. When I saw that someone IS doing research on the developmental hiccup that causes Anencephaly and Spina Bifida, I felt happy.

So I waddled across the BYU Life Sciences building and braved the stairs yesterday in order to meet Dr. Stark. On my way there I saw this sign.

I wonder at what God has done in my life, bringing me to this place where I may be in a position to help others.

It's not a done deal for me to work in Dr. Stark's lab. I have preliminary work to do before I can be accepted, and Abigail's scheduled birthday is in three weeks, so much of it will have to wait until my whole family is in recovery mode. It gives me hope to think that I may have a purpose going forward, that there is something beyond this monumental countdown to Abigail's birth.

If nothing else, it makes me happy to see that research into this phenomenon is ongoing and that a driven and capable scientist like Dr. Stark is doing it. Through him I've learned that others are doing research, too. Where Dr. Stark is studying the biological mechanisms and how known instigators of neural tube defects actually work, others are studying the genetics angle. Of course none of this pertains directly to Abigail's amniotic band syndrome, which doctors have explained to us as a "fluke." And even if it did, it wouldn't guarantee us more time with Abigail. None of this brings back the children of these other women, either.

All we have been left with is a forward-facing mandate to keep living for our babies and our surviving family. And that has to be enough.