Missing Lincoln

It is hard to believe it has been 6 years since Lincoln was born. I always wondered what it would feel like to finally be holding a baby as I marked this anniversary. I have to say that having Mason really has made me miss Lincoln more. I have thought about him a lot since Mason was born. I think I miss the fact that I was not able to feed him and watch him grow and have him smile at me. I know that those things will come and I am so grateful for the knowledge I have that our family will be together forever. I will see Lincoln again and he will be alive and I will get the opportunity to raise him and know him as my other children. What a wonderful blessing!

Right after we had this experience with Lincoln, I decided to make him a baby book and record all of my thoughts and feelings. I am so glad I did this. Our family will never be the same and we learned so much. I would like to share with you, my family and friends who were so supportive, some of the the things I recorded in the months following his death. On the morning of Tuesday, October 1st, 26 weeks into the pregnancy, I woke up with a full agenda, anxious to get the house clean.  I began with the dusting when I had a contraction that got my attention. It was such an unusual thing for me to be having them that I dismissed it as a false alarm. I continued my day as normal. Hour after hour they got stronger and closer together and I finally realized that I was in labor. Panic swept over me as I thought about how tiny this little boy would be and what chance of survival he would have if he was born three months early. I called Russell and asked him to rush home so we could go to the hospital right away. By 2:00 in the afternoon, I was having what seemed to be one long, hard contraction and the seriousness of my condition was beginning to sink in. We got to the hospital where they sent us to a room to wait for a nurse to determine the cause of the contractions. I was hooked up to a fetal heart monitor and the first nurse who saw us could not pick up a strong heartbeat. She assured us that all was well and had another nurse come with an ultrasound machine. As the nurse performed the ultrasound she was quiet and business-like. She asked us to go to another room where she had a stronger machine so we walked down the hall. As she looked at the baby, she did not give us any indication that things were fine. She called our doctor and ordered us to radiology. A wheelchair ride down the hall proved to be uncomfortable as the contractions intensified. While sitting in the hall waiting for the ultrasound technician a sudden gush of blood stained my clothing and we knew there were some serious complications. Another silent-but-thorough ultrasound before I finally asked the woman, "Is there a heartbeat?" She gave a soft, "no" and Russell and I clutched hands. What a peaceful confirmation we felt that Heavenly Father knew us and knew our grief but this was his plan. We knew he would give us the strength we needed to get through the difficult hours ahead as we delivered our baby knowing he would be dead.

We learned that a placental abruption was the cause of death. The placenta had torn away from the wall of the uterus all at once killing the baby quickly. It must have happened in the middle of the night because he was kicking like crazy before I went to bed. My mom was waiting for us when we got back to our room. What a relief if was to know someone was there to support us through this difficult time. As I told her our baby had died, we both cried. I can imagine the pain it must have caused her to watch her child suffering both mentally and physically. They admitted us to the hospital and transferred us to a labor and delivery room. I immediately asked for an epidural to ease the pain I was in. The hospital staff was so accommodating and understanding. They did everything possible to make our experience a little more bearable.

Our family started showing up and it was so nice to be surrounded by people who love and care for you. My sister, Kelly, was caring for Douglas and Stockton. Douglas knew that our baby had died and he cried over the phone. We did not want the children there until right after the delivery but we did want them to come and see the brother they would never get to know here on earth.

At 8:46 p.m. our little one was born silently under the sheet, just as peacefully as he had died. The doctor was not there in time and the nurse took care of all of the necessary procedures. A flood of emotions came over me as I held this silent child, perfect in every way. He was beautiful and it was hard to believe I would never hear him cry.   What a wonderful experience Russell and I had holding our little boy and crying together.

We asked the nurse to take our baby and clean him so our boys would be able to hold him. Our friends and family were waiting in the hall until after the delivery was complete and when the nurses left with the baby, they came into the room. I can not explain the overwhelming spirit of love that was there that night. We all had lost someone special to us and we all felt the grief as well as the sweet spirit that attended us. We had arranged to have Priesthood holders with us that night so we could give our baby a name and blessing before we had to say goodbye to him. We decided to do that right away so we could have some much needed family time.

When the nurse brought our baby back he was dressed in a white gown and wrapped in a beautiful white afghan. He looked like a little angel. Russell blessed him and named him Lincoln Murry Orchard. Other priesthood holders standing in the circle were our wonderful Bishop and friend, Mark Barlow, his counselor and our neighbor, Brian Duncan, Grandpa Murry, Grandpa Fred, Ben, Cameron, Dallas, Kelly Early and Steve. During the blessing we knew that Lincoln was there in the room with us. It was such a spiritual experience for all that were there. One thing I remember Russell saying is that Lincoln would be a guardian angel to his two older brothers. What a wonderful blessing to have in our family. How grateful we are that people were there to share this sad but wonderful experience with us.

We were able to bury Lincoln in the same plot that his grandfather, Douglas T. Orchard, is buried in.  One thing I learned from this experience was to cherish the things that I had otherwise taken for granted.  My family, whom I have always loved became so much more important to me. I found joy in holding Stockton on my lap or having "snuggle time" with Douglas.  Russell and I grew in our relationship and in our knowledge of the gospel. In a strange way, I am grateful that I was given the opportunity to endure a trial such as this. It has changed my life in a way that nothing else could have.