It's taken me quite some time to want to sit down and write Kylie's birth story. As I open the file in which I wrote down her story in the days after her birth, it's like I'm opening Pandora's Box. I read my account of that day with so much more detail included than I can remember. Please bear with me as this is a very long post, but I want to share what I consider to be her beautiful birth story.
As I speak to our friends and family and share Kylie's story with them, I always say that I never wish this upon anyone. I hope and pray that no one I know ever has to know what it feels like to hold their child for the first and last time, never having watched them take a breath on this earth. I also tell those people that this day could not have been any better. For the most awful circumstances surrounding Kylie's birthday, I couldn't have asked for anything more. I couldn't have asked for better memories. There are two reasons why I have such postive memories in the midst of such sorrow.
1) The Holy Spirit was without a doubt present in our delivery room.
2) The beautiful women, for whom I am so grateful, that were our nurses that day
Before I go on, I want to share that I have read countless other accounts of women and couples who have walked through the journey that we walk still today. I have read their children's birth stories. Not everyone is as lucky as we are to have such positive memories from the birth of their silent children. I am eternally grateful for the way we were treated in the hospital. The compassion the nurses portrayed was humbling, for I know cases such as ours are difficult for them as well. The respect our daughter received was the same respect any living infant would have received. Because of this compassion and respect, we have the memories of Kylie that we do.
I awoke on Thursday,
April 30, 2015 around 5:20am. I was unsure if the day would be our sweet daughter's birthday or not. I’m not sure what order I proceeded to get through
the morning. I showered, ate my breakfast, and read my bible. I wrote some
verses on post-it notes on the front of my bible. They provided me so much
strength and peace throughout that day. They still reside there, and additions have been made, covering the front and back of my bible.
Psalm 29:11 “The Lord gives strength to
his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.”
This verse has since become "my verse." I run it over and over in my mind many times each day.
John 14:27 “Peace I leave
you with, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not
let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
I also bookmarked a few
scriptures that I flipped to throughout the day.
Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I
formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart”
The
Lord had known of our sweet Kylie before we had even planned to conceive her.
He had an awesome plan for her, and that plan was to never see a single bad
thing on this earth. She was created in love and loved deeply by her daddy and
myself while she was in my womb.
Matthew 19:14 “ Jesus said, “Let the little
children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs
to such as these.”
Our Lord God loves children. He welcomes them to His heaven
with open arms. I know there’s a special place for them there because the Lord
loves these innocent souls.
When I opened my bible that morning, the first thing I
saw was some notes from a recent teaching at our church. My notes were titled “Why
do bad things happen?” The way the Lord works in our lives is amazing. I read through
my notes. I read through Matthew 26:36-46. God doesn’t always give us answers,
but He gives us reassuring signs. We don’t always know why bad things happen,
and that’s ok. Jesus faced suffering just like we do here on earth. It is ok to
wrestle with God. It’s ok to have questions for him. It’s ok to be upset with
him. Pray for God’s will to be done… not mine. This is what I continued to pray to Him throughout labor, Kylie's delivery, and yet today. "Let your will be done, Lord; not my own." The notes I took from just a couple weeks prior to Kylie's birth, my writing to myself, spoke to me. "Go through suffering, not around
it. As we go through suffering, God uses it because Jesus suffered. I can face
tomorrow."
I was never angry with God. Not once. I know my
personality. When I tore my ACLs in college and was sidelined, I was angry with God. Both times, I kept
asking, “WHY?!” I do not feel that way about losing our daughter. My faith
journey has developed since that time in college. I feel so much strength from
Christ. I feel His presence in my daily life. Something that has become another mantra that I say to myself over and over is, “God is good.
God is always good.” I know everyone deals with pain and grief differently, but
through all of this, I have not been angry with God. He has provided me with so
much faith through all of this. It is not my doing. My faith is also a gift from Him. Without it, I would be so lost.
We had packed our hospital bag the night
before. I so wished we were filling it with things for our sweet Kylie. I wanted to be packing her "going home outfit," diapers, an adorable hat. Instead, we packed a couple of our own outfits, our tooth brushes, my bible, our iPads, our
cell phone chargers, and the blanket we made with so much love and grief for our daughter. I couldn’t
leave the blanket in the bag when we left our home. I held it all the way to
the hospital. My tears dripped onto it in a constant stream. We parked at the
hospital in the visitors lot. We had never been there before. We had hoped to
tour the hospital before Kylie was born. I saw a car with a new infant car seat
in the backseat. I began to cry harder. My husband was so strong for me. He
held me there in the car for a few moments. We got out of the car, retrieved
our bags from the trunk. We walked into the hospital and sat in
the waiting area where I called the nurse from my cell phone. I cried harder
when I hung up. Jen came down to get us. God sent Jen to us that day. She
hugged and held me in the waiting room. She told me how sorry she was. I
understood… there are no words to say to a couple who is walking through the passing of their unborn child. She took us to our room on the delivery floor. She walked
us up the back way. We took an elevator meant for staff. She guided us to
our room at the end of the hallway. There were no other patients near our room. Again, I cannot describe how thankful I am for the compassion of the hospital staff during our stay. On our journey to our room, we heard a baby crying.
Patrick held me tighter. I cried a little harder. That walk to our room was so
difficult. I remember sitting down in a chair. I remember that my gown was on the bed waiting for me.
There was a baby warmer. That was so difficult to look at. I wanted my sweet
daughter to need the baby warmer. I wanted so badly for her to need it. I cried as we sat in
the chairs. Jen was so patient and compassionate as she guided us through some
of what we were to expect of the day. She left the room while I changed into my
gown. I cried as I changed, folding my yoga pants and running shirt, setting
them in the bag we brought to the hospital. I sat back down in the chair next
to my husband. He held my hand once more. We have never held hands as much as
we did on the day our daughter was born. Jen returned to the room. She asked
that I get in bed. I did as she asked. That time was a bit of a blur. We
answered a bunch of medical questions, I had a lot of blood taken, Jen put my
IV line in. I held onto Kylie’s blanket for most of that time. Once all of those
items were finished, at 9:15, I was given my first dose of induction medication
and nausea medication. The induction medication has a tendency to make you sick
to your stomach. Jen placed the capsules of induction medication next to my
cervix. I had to lay on my side for one hour after the capsules
were placed. I laid on my left side each time, facing Patrick. He held my hand. During those first four hours, we talked,
prayed, and read the bible. Psalm 29:11 “The Lord gives strength to his people; the
Lord blesses his people with peace.” Over and over, I read that verse
throughout the day. We
cried off and on, but we were also able to talk and laugh a bit. God was
present. God was giving us strength and peace. I sang the lyrics to "Holy Spirit" by Francesca Battistelli in
my head throughout the entire day, “Holy Spirit you are welcome here. Flood
this space and fill the atmosphere.” I flipped through the gospels, reading
scriptures I had underlined. Many happened to be about the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit
filled our hospital room that day.
The Chaplin came to talk and pray with us. I
called our church and asked to have Pastor Pat come once Kylie was born. The
secretary prayed with me. We called Pastor Pat on her cell phone, and she returned our call. She
prayed with us over the phone. She said she would come once Kylie joined us.
That was what we wanted. Eventually, we ordered lunch. I ate a small cup of
soup. I was not hungry. I felt slight cramping towards the end of the
first 4 hours of induction.
At 1:15, Jen checked my cervix again and issued my second dose of
medication. Once again, I laid on my side for the first hour, facing my strong
husband. Again, he held my hand. We watched "House of Cards" via Netflix on
my iPad. It gave us a sense of normalcy, almost. When watching, my mind was not so consumed by thoughts of Kylie. Throughout those first 8 hours, I was grateful that the induction takes so much time. We were told that my body wasn’t ready to give birth yet, and truth be told, I wasn’t ready to see our daughter yet. I
said that I hoped that by the time she was ready to come, I was ready to give birth
to her, to see her. That was one of my biggest fears of the day. I knew I
wanted to see our daughter, but I was scared. I was scared to see what she
looked like. I was scared I would not think she was beautiful. God would prove
once more to be faithful.
The social worker came to talk with us. Patrick and I
had spoken off and on throughout the day. We knew we’d have to make funeral
home arrangements after Kylie’s birth. We had decided we wanted to cremate
Kylie. As I've stated before, I couldn’t imagine her tiny body in a casket. I didn’t want to
bury our daughter. What if we move? What if we aren’t buried here in Lakeville
one day? We didn't decide in that moment that we'd scatter our sweet daughter’s ashes, but later, after we'd had time to pray about it and talk about it, we decided to scatter our daughter's ashes in Maui. In the hospital, I knew I wanted to scatter them in the ocean at sunset or in a peaceful lake
overlooking gorgeous mountains someday. I want to see her in every sunrise. I
already do. When I run in the mornings, so often I find myself saying good morning to Kylie in the sunrise, telling her I love her and miss her so much.
At 3:30, Jen was to go home and another nurse was to take her
place. I was so nervous. I loved Jen. She was kind, compassionate, she listened to
my fears, she hugged me, she supported us. Nickie joined Jen in the room around
3:30 to be briefed on our day. Nickie turned out to be another huge blessing to
us. She would be the nurse with us to deliver sweet Kylie. She was wonderful.
She was a bit quieter than Jen, and she was exactly who we needed throughout
the next 6 hours. We ordered French fries and tortilla chips around 4pm. I was
actually a bit hungry given I had not eaten much throughout the day. I ate most
of the French fries while we watched House of Cards. Our third dose of
induction medication came at 5:30. This was our final dose, for we would give
birth to our daughter 4 hours later. Nickie thought my cervix was thinning, but it was hard to reach. She said it could be slightly open. She placed
the medication. Once again, I laid on my side facing my husband. He held my
hand. We watched the Netflix show on the iPad. We talked, we cried. We hoped for the future.
I lost all track of time during this portion of our day. My cramps quickly
turned into contractions. My contractions became incredibly intense. I breathed
through each of them. I decided to have an epidural given I thought I may be
in labor until morning. Many inductions around 24 weeks can take up to 24
hours or more. I had also become feverish and was given Tylenol to bring down my fever. Those french fries I ate... I threw them all up. It felt like an eternity until the doctor came to administer my epidural. Once he arrived, the
anesthesiologist gave me the epidural. Patrick was allowed to stay. He had to
sit in front of me on a stool. Nickie held me as I sat with my legs over the
side of the bed. She allowed me to place my head on her shoulders. I grabbed
a hold of her scrubs and held on for dear life. This moment in which she held me
means so much to me. She didn’t know me, she had just met me hours before, yet
God used her during this time as my rock. I felt so much emotional and physical
pain in that moment. God gave me something to grab onto, something steady to
calm me. Once laying down again, I told Nickie and Patrick that I still felt quite strong contractions on
my right side. They helped me to flip to lay on my left facing my
ever-supportive husband. I was so cold. My body shook uncontrollably. Once facing Patrick, I focused every breath on getting through
each contraction and on controlling my shaking. The anesthesiologist returned
to increase my dosage. It helped my right side go mostly numb. I then focused
on breathing to control my shaking. Per my request, Patrick placed my
sweatshirt over the heated blankets. I was just so cold.
A couple hours later, I felt a gush of fluid. I was so worried our Sweet Kylie may
have come. I did not move from my position. I quickly asked Patrick to call
Nickie. She came in to check. My water indeed had broken, but Kylie had not
been born. I was still trying to control my
shaking. I did not want to spontaneously deliver my daughter. A little while
later, my guess it close to 9:15pm, I felt pressure. I felt like Kylie was
coming. I was still laying on my left side. I was very concerned and scared.
Once again, I had Patrick call Nickie into the room. I told her I thought Kylie
was coming. She checked and responded that her head was right there. She was
ready to come. I closed my legs once more while we waited for the doctor to arrive. Once again, I focused on my breathing to control the shaking. Once the
doctor arrived, I delivered Kylie into his arms. I delivered her in one easy push
while holding onto my husband’s hand, looking into his eyes. I told him so many
times that I loved him. He told me I was so strong. I did feel strong in that
moment. The Holy Spirit filled our room. I knew it was going to be okay. I knew
it wasn’t going to be an easy road, but it was going to be okay. I remember
Nickie wheeling in a bassinet to place our sweet daughter into. They moved her
to the room next door, taking sweet care of her until we were ready to see our daughter. The Lord truly made Kylie’s difficult birth as smooth
as it possibly could have gone.
As soon as I was changed into a clean gown after birth, the nurses sat me back up
in my bed. I turned to Patrick and asked him if he was ready to meet our
daughter. I knew I was ready. As Nickie left the room to get sweet Kylie, I prayed. I
prayed to the Lord that Kylie would be beautiful to me. Nickie walked back into
the room with Kylie. In her beautiful hat and sweet blanket Patrick and I made
together, she was placed in my arms. She was beautiful, so fragile, so sweet.
Her lips were parted. I ran my finger along them. I remember seeing her suck
during our first ultrasound. I remember that it made me so happy to see her do
that. For awhile, I just stared at her face. I felt so much peace in that
moment. I touched her cheek. I cried a little. No sobs, just tears. Patrick
stood next to me with his hand on my arm. I asked if he wanted to hold her. He told me he was not quite ready yet. He texted Pastor Pat. I asked Patrick if it was okay that I
open her blanket. I thought this was something I would have difficulty doing. I
did not. We stared at her sweet, tiny body; 10 fingers, 10 toes. I touched her hand, her foot, her stomach. She was so
fragile. I touched her arm. I kissed her head. Patrick held her
for awhile. He sat in the chair next to my bed and stared at his daughter. I
called Pastor Pat. She and her husband came to the hospital. Patrick placed
Kylie back in my arms before they arrived. Pastor Pat baptized Kylie Ryann in
the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. She placed three drops of
holy water on her forehead. She anointed her with oil. She wiped the oil with a
small hankie that I now hold so dear to my heart. It has a red cross on it, and for awhile it smelled of the oil wiped from Kylie’s head. If I breathe deeply, I feel that I can still smell it. Maybe it's just that I remember that moment so vividly, or maybe the scent is gracefully hanging on for a little while longer. That was an incredibly emotional moment. We
prayed the Lord’s Prayer together.
Once Pastor Pat and her husband left, we
decided we would say goodbye to our daughter. Patrick and I prayed over her. We
told her we loved her so many more times than I can count. We kissed her
forehead. We felt an incredible sense of peace. We called Nickie back into the room. We told her we
had said our goodbyes to our beautiful daughter and that we were ready for her
to take Kylie. She took our sweet girl into her arms. We cried, but we felt
very at peace.
A new nurse came on about the time we said our goodbyes to
Kylie. Her name was Sara. She took the time to gather Kylie's beautiful tiny foot prints and hand prints. I know she spent a lot of time getting the most perfect
ones that she could for us. She placed them on Kylie’s certificate of life. She
pressed Kylie's footprints into model magic and put them in a beautiful keepsake box. Sara
weighed Kylie and measured her. She weighed 7.4oz, she was 9 inches long, and
her head was 5 ½ inches around. She made extra copies of her wristband for us
to keep. Nickie had made us a bracelet of pink and white beads with “Kylie
Ryann” on it. We received certificates in which all of her birth information
was written. She gave us the tape measure used to measure our daughter. We
received a beautiful crocheted blanket and a set of handmade tiny diapers, hat,
and blanket. I had no idea these items would mean so very much to me. What I do
know now is also how much the photos of Kylie truly mean to me. Nickie took them for us while we held our daughter in our arms. For about a month, I looked at them
each day, many times per day. I knew that one day I would look at them just once per
day, then just a few times per week, then maybe once per week, then maybe just
when I felt I needed it. That's where I am now. I keep a photo of Kylie in my nightstand. I look at her when I feel I need to, when I need a reminder of her beautiful image. I am so incredibly thankful for the photos of my
beautiful daughter. They are very private to us. They mean so much to us.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. My fever was quickly
controlled and broke soon after delivering Kylie. I could tell Patrick was
worried about me and my fever. I asked God to bless me with no complications.
He is so good. I know it sounds crazy, but Patrick and I watched another Netflix show, we spoke of our
daughter, we didn’t shed too many tears that night. Many, many tears would come later. We
both slept a few hours until morning. We ordered breakfast, the doctor checked on
me, we were discharged. I prayed for strength as we gathered all our things and I changed back into my clothes. We left the hospital with our bags, my
purse, and a paper bag full of Kylie’s things. We left the
hospital without our daughter. Jen was once again our nurse on Friday morning. She
walked us to the front door. She gave me a hug. She confirmed what I already
knew, that God would take care of us. Patrick wrapped his arm around me, and we
walked into the parking lot. I sobbed. I sobbed because we were leaving our
daughter behind us. I sobbed because it was still just the two of us. We placed our bags in
the trunk. As we exited the parking lot, a man was placing an infant carseat
into his car. I cried harder. I told Patrick that it would be him doing that next time around. He
would be the one in the parking lot, wrestling with the infant carrier. We missed our
sweet Kylie Ryann Byer. We miss her everyday.
Nickie treated Kylie's birth like any other infant, writing her birth date and time on the white board. This meant so much to us.
Patrick, holding our sweet daughter
Our angel was born at 9:35pm on April 30, 2015.
Pastor Pat, baptizing our daughter.
Another picture of my sweet husband holding Kylie
She is oh so beautiful to me.
Kylie's Certificate of Life
Her tiny foot prints
Her tiny hand prints
Mustering a smile while holding our daughter
We love her so deeply.
