Angel Stories

Landon's Story

This story is written by a kind hearted and beautiful lady named Emily. Emily and I went to school together in our younger days. This is the story of her sweet Landon:

I was 25 weeks pregnant. I woke up on Thursday August 31st,2006 with a sick feeling in my stomach. I had a sick feeling in my stomachevery time I woke up, because I had non –stop morning sickness during mypregnancy, but this was different. My whole body was swollen. It felt as if myfingertips would bust open at any second. Something wasn’t right… but I blamedit on my every changing body during this pregnancy. I thought this was justanother side-effect that I would have to deal with. I got up as usual, went to class.I was taking a full load this semester so I wouldn’t get behind. I didn’t wantto be one of those teen moms that didn’t amount to anything. I wanted to get mydegree and be able to give my son everything that he deserved. I pushed onthrough the day, then after class went to work. I was a secretary at a Law Firmwhere my step mom worked. When I got there that afternoon, I showed her myankles and my hands. She said that was just part of it. That evening when I gothome I kept my feet propped up, trying to relieve some of the swelling. I fellasleep with several pillows under my legs that night. I remember laying thereand putting my hands on my belly, feeling Landon kick. He was always veryactive when I lay down to go to sleep.
I woke up the following morning feeling worse than I had theday before. I knew for sure that something was wrong. My dad checked my bloodpressure at home and it was sky high. We called the doctor that morning andthey asked me to come in as soon as possible. I got ready as quickly as I couldand went to the doctor’s office. They checked my blood pressure upon arriving –the nurse said “This can’t be right.” She had me lay in one of the exam roomsfor about 15 minutes so my blood pressure would have time to level off after mystressful morning.  She came in andchecked it again. I had tears running down my face. My blood pressure was evenhigher than before. They immediately admitted me. I called my parents and toldthem I was in the hospital so they could monitor me and the baby, run sometests, and get my blood pressure down. I had several visitors that night at thehospital. Good friends and family to keep me company while the doctors couldmake everything better and I could go home.
I was expecting to be released the next morning and get onwith my life. That wasn’t the case at all. The doctor came in and informed methat my condition was way worse than they anticipated and he didn’t feel he wasthe right person to care for me. He recommended a specialist at Norton’sHospital in Louisville, KY… and by recommended that meant flight nurses wereoutside my door to prepare to fly me to Louisville. I had been diagnosed withpreeclampsia, which I knew nothing about.  Was I really that sick? They only fly peopleif it is life threatening…right?
I was loaded into the helicopter. I was scared and confused.No one could ride with me because the helicopter was full of nurses, so myparents had to drive to Louisville as quickly as possible. I had always wantedto ride in a helicopter… but not a medevac. The nurses were constantly checkingmy vitals and looking me over. Then I noticed the concerned looks on theirfaces…not because of me but because of the weather. It had just taken a turnfor the worse. The pilot flew as far as he could and landed at a tiny airportin the middle of nowhere. I was transported from the helicopter to an ambulancethat was waiting on us. The flight nurses demanded that they ride in theambulance with me instead of the paramedics. I was happy with that… but alsoconcerned. What was wrong with me?
The sirens were on and we were flying down the highway. Iwas trying to relax with all the commotion around me. All I wanted was for mybaby boy to be okay, I didn’t care about me at that point. We arrived at thehospital and I was unloaded and rushed to a room they had waiting for me. Dr. Pwas there to see what condition I was in. The flight nurses were giving himinformation he needed, and before they left, one of the nurses leaned over tome and assured me that everything was going to be okay, and that my son wasgoing to be a little heart breaker one day so I needed to keep him away fromthe girls. Right then and there… I knew everything would be fine.
I was sent down the hall for an ultrasound. My little babyboy was perfect… whew, what a relief! I knew this was all some mistake. Thetech printed off a few of the ultrasound pictures and gave them to me before Iwas wheeled back down to my room.  When Igot to my room, my brother and aunt and uncle were there waiting on me. Theylived close to Louisville, so my parents thought since they couldn’t get therequick enough that they could have them waiting on me. I immediately showed mypictures around the room. There Mr. Perfect was! Nothing was wrong with him…why was I here?
A few hours went by, and my parents finally arrived. Duringthe time I was waiting I had been poked and prodded dozens of times. The nurseswere very upbeat and nice. They said I would most likely have to stay in thehospital until it was time to deliver my baby boy, because of my elevated bloodpressure. Bed rest…in the hospital…for 2 more months?! I was willing to do thatthough so that my son would be healthy and strong. I was willing to do whateverwas necessary for him. I loved him already so very much.
As time passed Friday turned into Saturday, and I expectedsome sort of improvement. There was none. I was given more medications to seeif they could help me… because my kidneys were shutting down. My condition worsened.My doctor came in that afternoon and gave me a choice, continue my pregnancyand risk complications, or be induced now. I couldn’t even wrap my mind aroundthat question… of course I wanted to continue my pregnancy. I wanted to delivera healthy baby. If I was induced now, that meant there was basically no chancethat he would survive. I made my mind up, I was going to fight this and get myson here safely.
The next day, the doctor was doing his rounds, and when hecame into my room, he had a somber look on his face. He asked that everyoneleave the room except for my mom and dad. My dad held my hand; we all knewsomething was wrong. Dr. P told me that I no longer had a choice in thismatter. He had to induce me because I was his patient, and he couldn’t risk mylife. He said that my condition had worsened even more since I had arrivedthere. The only choice that he had at this point was to save me.
That afternoon Pitocin was started in my IV. I was scaredand numb and praying for a miracle, praying that my son would be born healthyand alive. The contractions finally started and the pain set in. I could stillfeel him moving inside of me. He was still alive, there was still a chance.Late that night I was given my epidural. The doctor said it would be better forme the less I could feel.  I didn’t sleepmuch that night, just lay there thinking about what was going to happen in thenext few hours. Would Landon come out screaming? I sure did hope so…
My entire family piled in the room the next morning. Mycontractions were getting stronger, and I was getting closer to delivering mysweet baby. Little did I know that my body was beginning to shut down. I was indanger of organ damage or even death. Instead, I was reassuring my family thatI was okay and that everything would be fine. I even called Landon’s dad andgave him the news. He could have cared less, but I did my job by letting himknow what was going on. He was his son too… and I guess I thought if I calledhim, he would rush to my side to be with me when our son was brought into theworld. Instead he said he was sorry and hung up.
Around 1:00 pm, on Monday, September 4th, 2006,Landon James Stephens was born and taken to heaven. He got to spend a few hourswith us in the hospital room. We held him and loved on him and were amazed athow tiny he was. His feet were no bigger than my thumb. He was perfect.
After they wheeled him out, I realized they would not betaking him to the nursery. They would be taking him to the morgue. He wouldn’tbe taken to a room full of life, but a room full of death.
I was given a few different options of what to do with him.Have a funeral? Have him shipped back home and buried there? Cremated? Myfamily and I decided to have him buried at the infant memorial garden inLouisville. I didn’t think I was strong enough to deal with a funeral on top ofhaving to bury my son. Arrangements were made and he was taken to the beautifulgarden where his body was laid to rest.
I had to stay in the hospital for several more days to makesure that I was getting healthier. When I finally got to go home, I wasdreading seeing all of the baby stuff at our house, but I was ready to closethat chapter of my life. My family had some of their friends come and removeall of the baby stuff from our house so that I wouldn’t have to deal with itwhen I got home. I was hurt and relieved all at the same time. I spent weekslying in bed and dealing with my grief…and for the last 5 years I have stillbeen dealing with that same grief, the loss of my perfect son. I continuallyblame myself for not being able to sustain a pregnancy. What did I do wrong? Whyme?
I will never know the answers to those questions, but onething I do know is that my son is an angel in Heaven watching over me everyday. I can’t wait till we meet again.

Check out Emily's blog

http://coolcartemilio.blogspot.com/2012/06/things-that-bring-us-together.html?showComment=1340231253908#c8528718704137598499

The Story of Ava

This story was written by a friend of my sister-in-law. We had never met before Wyatt, but she has reached out to me in my time of need and her actions and words are beyond worth. Thank you, Amber. This is sweet Ava's story:

I will begin this by saying that I have no regrets of the things that I did both during and after the loss of our precious daughter Ava Claire Hayes. We did then and still do feel that God was in control and chose to take her home for reasons that we do not know or understand. Our job as her parents is to tell her story and to do everything in our power to prevent another family from ever having to experience the things that both Chad and I have had to endure. With that being said I would like to tell you how this precious little girl changed our lives in unimaginable ways.

We found out that I was pregnant in August of 2007 with our second child and we could not have been more elated. Our little boy Talan was two at the time and the center of our universe, so it was hard to imagine loving anything as much as we did him. We both knew that our hearts would grow as she did. I went for my 18 week ultrasound around Thanksgiving and it was then that we found out we were having a princess. Now I refer to her as the “princess” because that is exactly what she was and will always be to us. I started preparing for her by doing all of the things that a normal pregnant woman would do. I shopped! Everything was pink and when I say everything I mean EVERYTHING! There was so much love and thought put into her nursery and all of the details all the way down to the pink chandelier.

At 31 weeks I started to contract and my OB took me off of work. Now this was not a huge shocker due to the fact that I did the same thing with our son, but this time I was given the dreaded drug called Magnesium Sulfate or MAG for short. If you have never experienced this for yourself let me just say that it was created by Satin him self in the pits of HELL. It was awful, but I lived through it. I do remember my blood pressure being extremely low when I was on this drip. I was also prescribed turbutiline and instructed to take it every four hours to keep from contracting. So that is what I did. If I was sleeping I would set an alarm to wake myself up to take my medication and then go back to sleep. This went on for six weeks until I turned 37 weeks and then when I had the ok for her to be born, nothing!

She dug in her heels and didn’t move a muscle. We would just joke and say that she was a drama queen already. This is where I started to notice that something wasn’t “right” if that’s how you want to describe it.

It was the Sunday before she was born and I was 37 & 5 days pregnant when I said it out loud. I told my sister-in-law, “I just don’t feel right.” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was if my body was screaming at me that something was just off. It felt as if she had moved midline of my stomach and wasn’t moving near as much. I would still feel her, but her pattern was definitely different. I was just passing it off as my nerves and the fact that we were so close to having her.

The other thing that I started to notice was that for about two weeks before she was born she would get the hiccups every night when I would lay down to go to sleep. It would happen about 10 minutes after I would get into a horizontal position. This didn’t really alarm me either since my first baby did the same thing. In fact we would lie in bed and watch my belly move as she would hiccup. I think back now at how naive I was to think that nothing could have ever been wrong with her.

On Monday I went to my OB for my weekly visit and told the nurse that I wasn’t feeling her move as much. She asked me if I was still having movement and I said to her “yea I am sure it is fine, I’m just ready for her to be here.” Once again I passed up the opportunity to tell someone that could have made a difference that I didn’t think something was right. Her heart rate that day was in the 150’s and we “assumed” that everything was fine. I was scheduled to be in induced that Friday at 6:00 am and deliver her vaginally if all went well. Needless to say, all did not go well.

I felt like something was wrong all week but continued to suppress all of those feelings and chalk it up to nerves and the fact that I didn’t want to be one of those people. You know the ones that I am talking about. The women who are in the hospital every other day for something or another, we usually refer to these patients as “frequent flyers.”

Wednesday night I went to bed thinking that there would only be two more days until she was in my arms. I knew that her movement had drastically dropped that day and that my stomach felt like it was in a constant contraction for the past two days, but still I did nothing. I said my prayers and went to sleep when all of the sudden at 2:00am my eyes popped open and I had this sudden urge to get out of the bed. I got up and walked around the house for a few minutes trying very hard not to wake Chad or Talan. Then I settled in the recliner and turned on the TV.

At 2:00am there isn’t much on but commercials and discovery health so I switched it on to a baby delivery story of some sort. This is where things start to get very interesting because as I was watching this show a woman experienced a still birth. I don’t really remember what was wrong with the baby other than the fact that he had some genetic problems. I realize now that was God preparing me for what was about to happen.

Chad awoke to go to work a little after 5:00am and came into our living room to find me still awake in the recliner. He asked me if I was ok and I replied, “I’m fine, I just can’t sleep.” Once again another chance lost to take action. I don’t know why I was so afraid to speak up! It was as if I thought that if something wasn’t wrong with me everyone would laugh at how dramatic I was being. He then kissed me goodbye and left for work.

That day around 9:30am I started to have contractions but they weren’t very strong and I knew that she wasn’t coming in a big hurry. I cleaned up my house, gave our son a bath, went to the beauty shop and then decided it was time to go to the hospital. Sounds like a Mom, huh! Always worried about getting everything taken care of, but never thinking about what she needed to do. I called my mother and Chad and told them it was time for me to go into the hospital. Since Chad works 12 hour shifts, my mom was going to drive me in and be there for the birth.

We got to the hospital and it was just my mom and me. I had called Chad and told him to finish his shift and come on when he got off work. They checked me in and put me up on the bed to get the monitor on me. This is where the nightmare really begins.

Since I work in this hospital every day and know the labor and delivery nurses very well I can read them all like a book. I know that look that is given when something is very wrong and they are not at liberty to tell the patient because they can’t make that call. My friend Andrea was the nurse taking care of me and she tried to find Ava on the monitor. After about 30 seconds of her searching and not being able to pick her up or any movement I knew! I remember saying, “I am getting really nervous Andrea, so you need to either find her or tell me something.” She had that look but she kept telling me, “she has probably just moved and not picking up well” I knew this was a cover up to what she really feared. She searched for what seemed like and eternity and then said “let me go get Lisa she is usually better at finding baby than me.”

I then looked at my Mom and said “she’s gone.” My mother being the cheerleader that she is kept saying that it was fine and she was going to be ok. I knew in my heart that wasn’t true.

Lisa then came into the room with this look of, O-shit (for lack of better words) with a Doppler in one hand and the charge nurse phone in the other. She sat on the side of my bed and stared at my stomach as she searched and listened for any sign of Ava. I started crying and saying, “look at me Lisa, look me in my eyes and tell me the truth.” She looked up at me with huge tears in her eyes and said nothing; she simply shook her head no.

She was telling the other nurses, by this time there were eight nurses or so in the room, to call Dr. A and get ready for a section. Everyone was running in different directions and about that time Chad and my OB both came running into the room. They had brought the small ultrasound machine in and had called for the tech on call to come back in with the big machine. She broke my water and tried to find her on the intravaginal monitor. Once again, nothing!

Chad was crying, I was crying, the nurses were all crying because we all knew what was about to happen. The ultrasound tech came in with the 4 dimension US machine, turned out the lights and placed the wand on my belly. She rolled it once across and there she was my perfect baby and no heartbeat. She then split the screen and turned up the volume and at the bottom of the screen where there should have been her heart rate was a flat line and all we could hear was static. It was like something out of a sad movie and I was playing the leading roll. A roll that I never imagined I would ever have to play. How could this have happened? I felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest and ran over with a Mack truck.

The next decision was whether or not to have a c-section or try a vaginal delivery. I knew that the best decision would be to have the section. So we started preparing for surgery. We chose to have both my mom and Chad in the delivery since they were basically all of the family that we there at that time. The rest seems as if it was a big blur.

They took me in for the section and asked me if I wanted to be awake or completely under and I choose to stay away for the simple fact that I wanted to see her first. The thought of everyone seeing and touching and holding her before me almost made me sick. I guess you could say that I went into protective mother cat mode and just wanted her all to myself at that point. Once the surgery started it didn’t take long at all but then I heard the words that will forever ring in my mind, “Amber it was wrapped five times at her neck.” Then there was just silence and the sound of people holding back tears. You know that sound when people are trying not to let the one that it directly being affected knows that they are crying. Like when a kid is sucking the snot back up in their nose and wiping their face all at the same time.

They wiped her off, wrapped her up and handed her to Chad. There she was my perfect lifeless little girl that I could not wait for and I could not save or protect. The first words I said to her were, “Mommy is so sorry Ava, I couldn’t save you.” Chad was crying and shaking so hard he was afraid that he would drop her. He said I am going to take her out here while they finish up with you and I’ll bring her back. I just kept saying “don’t let anyone hold her, please don’t let her go.” His reply was two simple words “I promise!”

They took me back to recovery and then Chad walked in sobbing holding Ava and sat on the bed next to me. He placed her in my arms and I completely lost it. I just kept telling her how sorry I was and how much I loved and wanted her. Then came the “just breath Ava” if I said it once I said it 2000 times. I kept thinking if I said it enough it would happen. The denial was setting in and I could not stop it. At this point I was hurting so badly from the section and felt as if I had no control over anything. I was completely helpless!

The next few people that came into the room where my mom, sister-in-law, sister, dad & brother. At first I didn’t know if I wanted anyone to hold her, but then I started to realize how selfish I was behaving. After all she wasn’t only my daughter, but someone’s granddaughter, niece, cousin, etc…. I then told Chad that he could take her out to the waiting room and show her to everyone. They took me to a room and as they wheeled me by the waiting area I remember seeing three of my very good friends setting like scared little ducks all crying together and holding hands on a sofa. Their faces said a thousand words and two of them were pregnant so I could see the guilt in their eyes.

Once in a room people started to filter in and one of the first was my brother Eric. He was crying and didn’t know what to say or do. He too was helpless. I knew that he had not held her up until this point so I looked at him and asked him if he would like to hold his niece. He just shook his head and said “yes.” He was broken so he sat in the rocking chair and began to rock her. I just cried as I watched him stare into her little face as his tears landed on the blanket that she was wrapped in. The worst was when my sister-in-law Jordan (or George as we all call her) brought our two year old Talan into the room. He was so confused and didn’t know what to think or do. He was scared of both me and Ava and wouldn’t come anywhere near me. It was awful because here I was not able to help my other child either. He wouldn’t touch or even get close to her and I can only imagine what was going thru his little head. Everyone was crying and why? He just didn’t get it and how could he because none of us could understand it either.

Chad kind of pushed everyone out so we could have some time alone together with her. I was insistent that I did not want her going to the morgue. The thought of my infant lying on a cold slab absolutely sickened me. She stayed with us all through the night. We just held her, cried over her, prayed, took pictures and did our best to soak every ounce of her up because we knew that this was the only chance we would have to do these things. That night as we laid in my room 224 of Lourdes Hospital the earth moved, literally! There was an earthquake for the first time in years. Nothing that caused any damage but it was our way of knowing Ava was making her mark. Pretty amazing for a baby who never drew her first breath.

The next day we called our youth pastor since we were without a minister at that time and he came to the hospital to be with us. This was extremely hard for him due to the fact that his wife had just given birth to their first child the day before Ava was born. We ask him that at that time if he would be willing to perform her funeral service, but we did ask him to think about it and if he felt as if it would be too much on him and his family we would understand. He quickly replied “I would be honored.”

Shortly after he left the funeral home director arrived and I could not bring myself to put her in his arms. We spent a very emotional last few minutes with her and then Chad walked her out into the hall and closed the door behind him. I am not sure what he said to Bob at that time and I don’t know if I ever will. He did the hardest thing that a father would ever have to do and that was to give his little girl over to another man. We just never imagined it would be the county corner. When Bob came back into the room with the paperwork for us to sign and help us make arrangements I said to him, “Please treat her as if she was your own. I am so afraid of her being cold and alone, take care of my daughter.” He promised me that he would.

Days after her funeral I learned that he got up in the middle of the night and went down to the funeral home to be with Ava. His wife told me that he took a rocking chair to her, wrapped her little body in blankets, sang to her, prayed over her and mourned our sweet baby girl. He not only did this one night but two. This man went 48 hours with little to no sleep just so our Ava didn’t have to be alone or scared. Now both Chad and I knew that she wasn’t really there, but we need to know that her little body was being taken care of until she was laid to rest. This was a true testimony of God’s love shown to us through other people.

On Sunday we had her services and buried her in our family plot. She was placed directly behind my grandmother and there was is a spot for Chad to her left and me to her right. It was very important to both of us that she be buried between the two of us so that even in death we could be close to her here on this earth. The funeral lasted about 5 hours in length including visitation, service and graveside.

We had photos made before anyone arrived; it was just Chad, Talan, Ava and I. I would not take all of the money in the world for these pictures. The photographer came and did all of them with such dignity and respect. Another issue that I had was that I did not want to see her casket. Being the great man that he is, Bob went in and got Ava, wrapped her in a special blanket that we brought to the funeral home and brought her to us. She was picture perfect and looked as if she was sleeping.

All of the immediate family arrived next and we allowed all of her grandparents to hold her one last time. I took pictures of all of them with my camera and gave them to all of them after the funeral. We did not want other people taking pictures of her. For me it was for the simple reason that I wanted to review all images of her and if I did not approve I wanted them gone. This did upset some people, but I didn’t really care.

There were so many people at her funeral that the line was out the door and across the parking lot. I had people later tell me that they were in line for an hour and a half. This amazed me because these people didn’t even know her, yet they cared so much. Now I know that some people were there only to see the “show” but I know whom those people were and so do they. Something very unique about her service was that I held her the entire time. At one point I had to take a break because I was getting so weak and Chad held her, but other than that she remained in my arms. I wanted people to see her as they would have if she would have born alive. It was my way of coping with things be it right or wrong. We drove to the cemetery in our car with Bob driving. I held her in the car and when we got to the graveyard Chad packed her to the plot. There were only two chairs set up and that was the way I preferred it. The graveside only lasted about 5 minutes and it was over. We asked everyone to leave and we spent some time alone with her. When it was time to leave Chad placed her in Bob’s arms and we walked away, Chad kept telling me “don’t look back Amber, just look forward.” By far this was the hardest walk I have ever had to make.

We have learned so many lessons from Ava and I like to say that her death was both a blessing and a curse. We have this job, if you would like to call it that, to tell people her story and let them know that this too can happen to them. None of us are above things like this. We also know the true meaning of love because we have made the greatest sacrifice that any parent can make and that is the loss of a child. Our child is in the arms of God and we WILL hold her again someday. But for now we must fight to make sure that other families do not have to experience the same things that we have had to experience. That is the reason I am being so public about her story.

I wrote this only a few months after my precious Ava was born. I hope that it shins some light on the darkness that others are in at this time. Krystal
you are a beacon of light and this is what will help you fight your way out of the darkness. Wyatt was, is, and will always be loved by those around you. You will always carry him with you as I will always carry my precious Ava. God Bless you my friend on your journey.

Love you to heaven and back Ava. See ya’ later alligator!

Mommy