Reese Gabrielle Schaaf – 5 lbs. 11 oz. 19 ½”

Reese Gabrielle is the most beautiful gift from God.  Her middle name, Gabrielle, means, “God is my Strength.”  This fits her perfectly.  She has proven herself to all of the doctors for a week now.  The neonatologist initially thought that my due date was off when he first looked at her.  He thought she seemed more like a 34 week old baby, not a 36 week old.  They started breathing treatments right away to help with the fluid on her lungs.  When I saw her for the first time after surgery, she had a feeding tube, an IV for antibiotics, and numerous cords connected to her petite frame.  Every single day she has proven her strength.  She is a champ at nursing, so they never ended up using her feeding tube.  She did not have an infection like they thought, so she did not need her antibiotics, and her lungs are working perfectly.  The doctor now believes, maybe the due date wasn’t off after all.  On Friday, they decided to start phototherapy to help with her jaundice.  After 2 days of sunbathing, her biliruben levels are down.  As long as she maintains her current levels, she will be heading home tomorrow!  Yay!  We are so excited!  Reese loves to eat, sleep and hang out in her premie clothes that are too short J.  They fit her perfectly around her body, but her long legs tend to poke out of the bottom.  I can’t WAIT for her to wear all of her adorable clothes as she grows. 

Feeling Anxious

Friday morning was extremely difficult for me.  I frantically woke up a few times in the middle of the night later than what I had intended on to feed Reese.  This left me feeling very anxious and brought back a slew of feelings from the morning we lost Drew.  This is something I’ve been preparing for for several months, but it hit pretty hard.  I just could not stop crying.  When I held Reese, swaddled in her blanket, she reminded me so much of the last hour I spent with Drew before they took him to the funeral home.  He looked so peaceful in his blanket and it seemed as if he was still sleeping.  I sat in bed weeping, feeling vulnerable and holding her so tighly, not wanting to let go.  As we go home and get into a routine, and as Reese grows, this feeling of anxiety will lesson.  Please pray for peaceful nights for Dan and me. 

Hayden

“Where’s baby Owen, Mom?  I want to see him.”

“Well, honey, baby Owen was sick, and didn’t grow like baby Reese did.  He will not be able to come home with us.” 

This was our original conversation with Hayden on Monday night.  We weren’t sure how to explain everything to him, so this was our best in the moment.  Thankfully, we had a beautiful women stop by to see us on Monday night from a local group called Share.  She mentors families who have lost children.  She had actually lost a child who was stillborn.  She gave us so much insight as to how to explain things to Hayden.  She also convinced us that it was a good idea to let him see baby Owen.  So Tuesday morning, before Hayden came into the room, Dan explained to him what he was going to see.  Owen was going to be cold and his skin was going to look different.  When Hayden came into the room, I could tell he was grieving in his own 3 year old way.  He seemed very uncomfortable and sad.  He looked at Owen and said a few sweet words to him.  Over time, he became more comfortable and kissed his head and looked at Owen’s fingers and toes.  We even took a family picture.  When it was time for us to say our goodbyes to Owen, Hayden walked over to his bassinet, peeked over the edge and said, “Bye Owen, have fun in Heaven!”  I was so thankful that we had a change of heart and let Hayden meet his brother that he will see again someday. 

Pissed Off

Tuesday morning I woke up pissed off.  I can honestly say, I didn’t experience the anger stage of grief when Drew died.  People told me I would be angry.  They said I would ask, “Why me?”  I remember thinking, “Why not me?”  I knew so many people pregnant at the time, and if it didn’t happen to us, it would have happened to someone.  I would have never wanted anyone else to experience the intense pain that we were experiencing.  Tuesday, however, was a different story.  I found myself mad.  I was mad that I had to meet with the funeral director (thankfully a good friend) again, mad that we had to say good bye to Owen, mad that I was going to have to explain to Hayden why he was only taking one baby home…not 2.  This just didn’t and still doesn’t seem fair.  I’ve learned very quickly, though, that life is not fair.  Things do happen for a reason.  God has everything planned out, even though it may make no sense here on earth.  At least when my time comes to go to Heaven, I will be so excited to reunite with my boys and ask God lots of questions. 

The unknown

Because I had never had a surgery prior Monday, I felt the anxiety rising in my body.  Several friends had shared their c-section stories.  It always seemed so easy and routine, however, now it was my body they were cutting open, and they were my babies, they were pulling out.  There are so many protocols that go with surgery that just didn’t excite me…an IV, catheter, cuffs on my legs, drinking a bitter florescent looking liquid, a spinal block.  My biggest fear, however, was wondering how I would react to seeing another lifeless infant.  This was an image I have worked to delete from my brain for the past 9 months.  Never in a million years would I have expected to see this again.  What would it be like hearing one baby announce her arrival while the other had no voice? 

Thankfully, God gave me a sense of peace and bravery during the surgery.  I felt calm and all the things I worried about hours before had disappeared.  I will forever feel grateful for all of the people who were praying for us.  As they rolled me out of surgery, I noticed a room full of friends who had been holding a small prayer vigil for us.  What a feeling of comfort.  They laughed when I smiled and waved and I rolled by.  I was just trying to figure out who they were J. 

I need to get a second opinion, I’ll be right back

These are the words every mother fears when she’s in a dimly lit ultrasound room anticipating images of her unborn child, or in our case, unborn children.  When I heard those words Monday afternoon, my heart sank.  I tried to think of other possibilities, maybe the machine isn’t working correctly, maybe it’s because he flipped, or just there is no way this is happening.  The loss of one child is enough, right?  This is not the way the story was supposed to unfold.  These twins were a miracle and a beacon of hope for us and so many others after baby Drew died last summer. 

“I’m so sorry Devon, your baby has passed away.”  I sat there in shock thinking, “You have GOT to be kidding me.”  Curled in a ball on the examination table, I sobbed along with my new friend and ultrasound technician.  She had done almost all of my ultrasounds during my pregnancy and we had actually developed a bit of a friendship.  We were both devastated.  Before long, Dan rushed through the doors only to find out that we were in the midst of what should have been a dream, but was now a reality. 

We were given the options of what would come next, induction or c-section.  I wanted to get our healthy baby girl out as soon as possible, so we opted for the c-section.  Plus in this mental state, I had no idea how a natural labor would pan out.  Within 20 minutes, I was off to labor and delivery to be prepped for a surgery, I didn’t intend to have. 

Purpose

The purpose of this blog is to communicate with all of our friends and family members on what were are expereincing and to share the blessings and hurdles of life.