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Shelby

Mom to Elijah ‘Murphy’ Rhett

June 18, 2014

Missouri

Wednesday, June 18th at 10:25pm we welcomed Elijah ‘Murphy’ Rhett.

Our day started like any other–husband had court, W and I got chores done around the house, and everyone was looking forward to seeing the baby and finding out the gender. However, our appointment didn’t go as expected. The doctor saw fluid on the baby’s tummy and skull, which we asked what that meant, and he went on to explain that there was no movement, no heartbeat.

We cried, and Wendy was so concerned. We sent Wendy with a friend of ours that is a nurse there. Burke explained that we would have to go the hospital, and I would have to deliver. Brett called his mom to come get W, she went to Nana’s and took a nap.
 
As we got to the hospital, we knew we had hard choices to make. We knew we wanted to see, hold and take pictures with baby, and we offered that choice to the grandparents as well. Our nurses got us settled in the labor and delivery room, and everything felt so surreal. I kept thinking that it should have been colder out, there should have been snow, we should have had a diaper bag… none of this made sense. Our heads were spinning with details like telling our siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends… they were all expecting happy news. Doctor arrived and started medicines, and the wait began– a wait for a delivery I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to get through. How in the world do you find the strength to deliver a baby you know is already gone?
 
Parents came and gave us strength as we waited. A family member picked up W from Nancy’s and took her home for a slumber party. Soon things started in motion, my water broke, and before I knew what was happening the baby was here, but just like that, the baby was already gone. Feeling the baby leave me was only what I can imagine will be one of the most painful experiences of my life. This baby that I had prayed for, celebrated, seen wiggle and move, picked out names for, watched a heartbeat weeks earlier was no longer a part of me. I was empty.
 
There was no crying from the baby, no cheering and smiling, they cleaned us up and waited until we were ready. The nurse told us we had a little boy. My husband collapsed in sobs, our first son. We didn’t use our original name because this wasn’t an ordinal situation. When we were ready we told them his name and asked to see him. He was 5 oz. and 16 cm. He was tiny and swollen from the fluid in his tummy and skull, but he had sweet little eyes, a flat little nose, full lips, W’s tiny hands with fingers and nails, long little legs, and small feet with toes and toenails.
He was on this earth and he was ours, but at the same time he was in heaven and already God’s. The only comfort we felt was that we would see him again one day in heaven and that our loved ones were already with him and loving him.
 
We held him, rocked him, touched him, kissed him, talked to him, and took pictures. Grandparents came back to share this time with us. Grandparents left, and we were once again alone with our Murphy. We didn’t know how to part with him, even though he was already gone. We finally had the nurses call the funeral director. When he came, we had a short chat and finally had to hand our baby boy over and let him leave. 1:45am was the last we saw of our son, but not for the last time.
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