I have five children, Corey, Quinn, Gavin, Arminda, and Lydia Rose. Corey, Arminda, and Lydia are with me now, and Quinn and Gavin will be with me someday in paradise. This is their story...

My husband, Brian, and I were planning on trying to get pregnant sometime in May of 1996, after we went on vacation. It seemed like the perfect time. Things never seem to work out how you plan them though. I had a really long period in October 1995, and then in November, I didn't have one at all. When the pregnancy test came out positive, I was truly shocked. I hate to admit it, but I wasn't really happy about it at first. The first person I told was my sister, Heather, she was overjoyed, and that started to get me excited. Then I made a stop at Brian's work, he was very happy.

When we told Corey he was going to be a big brother, he ran into his bedroom and wouldn't come out. He kept saying, "I'm too little to be a big brother!" So, for a while we just told him he was going to have a brother or sister, and didn't mention him being a "big brother"!

Just as I was getting use to the idea, things started to go wrong. At the end of December, about a week after I found out I was pregnant, I started bleeding, bright red blood. I must have screamed, I don't remember but, Brian says I did. He came running. I called the midwife I had planned on seeing, but because I had not had an initial visit, they couldn't talk to me. (I love my midwife, but I still think this policy stinks). So, I called my regular doctor. They got me right in, and basically the doctor told me I was having a miscarriage, and to go home and wait. He did not examine me or anything, just came in and told me that. He did arrange for some blood tests. I don't remember what they were now, but they were testing levels of something. I was told to stay in bed, and wait.

Finally, after about a week of staying in bed, and having these levels checked (which kept rising like they were suppose to) I finally talked the midwife's office into seeing me. I want to stress that I don't blame my midwife for this, I was actually dealing with a different office at the time. She examined me, and everything seemed all right, except my uterus was much bigger than it should have been for how far along I thought I was. So, I was sent for and ultrasound.

I just knew what they were going to find, my baby was dead, I knew it. So, you can imagine my joy when the ultrasound technician turned to us and said, "That is the heart beating, right there." I have never been so happy and relieved in my whole life! I couldn't believe my ears, I just said, " You mean the baby is alive?" Then Brian and I cried.

The only thing they could find was, first off, I was 12 weeks pregnant, and not 6 like I thought, and they said I had a subchorionic hematoma (forgive my spelling). Which they didn't think would be a problem. But, I had to stay in bed until the bleeding stopped. My due date was July 26.

At this time my son, Corey was an active three year old. My mother, Barbara, watched him for me during the day. My sister, Heather also helped. I don't know what I would have done without them during this time! They were very upbeat, and talked about how I would be pregnant for our vacation to Florida in May, and what a special and spoiled baby this was going to be!

Then, when I was 16 weeks pregnant, I felt a sudden gush of fluid, and after that, the bleeding stopped.

At my next ultrasound appointment, they led us to the least private room there was. There were two other ultrasound "stations" separated by a curtain. The couple next to us was expecting twins, I know because I could hear everything they were saying. When the ultrasound technician was having trouble seeing our baby, I didn't get too worried, I figured it was no big deal. Then she left, to get someone else to help. While they were gone Brian and I picked out a boy's name, Quinn Elliot. Elliot is Brian's dad's middle name. We were talking about some friends of ours who were also expecting a baby, or maybe they had just had theirs, and Brian was trying to remember the baby's name. He started rattling off a bunch of different names, and then he said Quinn, and we just both looked at each other and knew that it was perfect for our baby. I am so glad that we picked out a name at that time, because it was the last happy moment of the pregnancy.

When the ultrasound technician came back in, she brought Dr. Austin , a peranatologist with her. He took a look at the ultrasound, and said, "Your water has broke." Even at that time, I didn't understand what this meant for my baby. Then he said, " The fetus will survive one week, maybe two."

It took a second for this to sink in, and then I started crying and saying, "no, no, no" over, and over again. Brian was crying too. I just kept thinking that I was ruining the ultrasound for the couple that was next to us. I was in a bit of a daze for a while after that. I don't remember exactly telling my mother, but I remember that she and my father were extremely upset. I believe that my mom told my sister, and if that's not right, I'm sorry Heather. I was kind of out of it at the time. Corey really didn't seem to completely understand what was going on at this time. He knew something wasn't right, but not the full extent of it.

Well, Quinn must have been a little fighter, because two weeks came and went, and he still had a strong heartbeat. We started getting a little optimistic, there was a minuscule chance that the hole could seal up. We prayed everyday for a miracle. But, it was not to be. About three weeks after the fateful ultrasound, I had another one, and there was still very little amniotic fluid. Then the next day, I started bleeding again. I guess I knew what it meant, so when I had my appointment with my midwife on Monday, I wasn't really surprised when she couldn't find a heartbeat. She sent us for another ultrasound to confirm that the baby was, indeed, dead. I don't want to sound cruel, but I felt mixed with the grief, a great sense of relief that this was coming to an end. For two months, we had basically been waiting to see if our baby was going to live or die, and it was extremely draining. We had hoped for a much different ending, but we don't always get what we want.

They scheduled me to be induced on Thursday. I didn't quite know what to do with myself those final days, I didn't know, was I still pregnant? When does someone stop being pregnant? Strange questions, but that's what I was feeling then.

They figured that it would take about two hours for me to have Quinn, since he was so small. My body always has a way of doing things differently. I went in at 8:00 and didn't deliver until 2:00. Brian, my Mom, Dad, and Heather, my sister, were all there. They helped me keep my mind off of what was happening. I am very thankful that they were there. My sister brought me a stuffed Eeyore, my favorite Pooh character. My father in law stopped by for a while. When the contractions really started kicking in, I started really crying. Not only from the pain, but from the realization of what was really happening. I hadn't planned on having drugs, but at that point I did ask for them. I don't know what I was given, but they took effect immediately. I could still feel the pain, but I just really didn't care!

The doctor came in to examine me, and asked my family to leave. I pushed once, and Quinn was born. At first I thought the doctor couldn't tell if he was a boy or girl, but I guess I heard him wrong, because it was a boy. They put him in a little basket, and I got to hold him. He had a problem with his intestines. They were on the outside of his body. They don't know if this caused my water to break, or if it was caused by my water breaking. I thought he was a beautiful little boy.

We had a funeral for him on the Sunday after he was born. We had a wonderful funeral director, and he didn't charge us for the funeral. We picked out a little casket. I liked it because it had a little pillow in it. I don't know why, I just liked that idea.

We buried him in our family plot, next to my uncle. My father gave a talk at the cemetery. I don't remember much of what he said. When it was time to leave, I couldn't. I just stayed by that little casket and cried and cried. Brian had to take me away from it. It was very cold and snowy, and I just couldn't stand the thought of them putting my little baby in that cold, cold ground.

Quinn was born on February 29, l996. Leap year day. We haven't had a March first in our house since. It is February 29 to us.

GAVIN'S STORY

We waited several months before trying to get pregnant again. My body was going a bit wacky at this time. My periods, which have always been very timely, started getting sporadic I don't even remember how many extremely disappointing negative pregnancy tests I had! My midwife put me on some medication (some sort of hormone) to help get them back on schedule. It didn't work, I still was not having my periods. So, she sent me for a blood test to see if I was pregnant, it came back negative. When I still hadn't had my period a month later, I took a home pregnancy test, and .....It was positive!!!!! I was, needles to say, extremely excited! I called my midwife immediately, and scheduled an appointment to come in for her to do a "real" test. It came back positive too. We went ahead and told our families, and some friends. We figured if something did go wrong, we would need their support, and we were very excited!

Corey was fine about being a big brother this time! He was pleased with the idea.

I was excited, but I was very nervous about the pregnancy. I didn't want to talk about it with anyone. People immediately started asking me what names we had picked out, and didn't seem to get the hint when I tried to change the subject. I even told some of them that I'd rather not talk about it, and they still persisted! I know that they were just excited for us, but I wished they would respect my wishes.

About a week after we found out we were going to have another baby, I noticed an extremely small spot of brownish colored blood. I freaked out, I immediately called my midwife, and told her what was happening. This was on a Saturday, so she told me to come in on Monday to check things out.

There was no more spotting, so I was kind of optimistic on Monday. The midwife did an exam, and everything looked really good. There was no more blood, and she thought I was actually more like nine weeks pregnant. The pregnancy test that I had must have been wrong! Brian and I were so happy and relieved! My midwife set up an appointment for me to go in for an ultrasound anyway, just to check things out. Brian and I were excited about the ultrasound, we were going to get our first look at our new baby!

When they started the ultrasound, the technician seemed to be having some difficulty seeing the baby clearly. He told us he was going to get the doctor. At that time my heart fell, and I knew. They don't go get the doctor for no reason. I was already crying when the doctor came in and told us that she was very sorry, but there was no heartbeat. I clung to Brian and cried all over his leather coat. I remember saying, "No, not again, not again!" And Brian explained to them that we had lost another baby almost a year to the day.

They led us to a room where someone tried to console us, but there really isn't anything anyone can do at that point. They then sent us back to my midwife's office, who cried with us. That, I believe, helped more than anything.

We then had to go to my parents to pick up Corey, and tell them the news. I felt that if we just drove by and didn't tell anyone, it might just turn out to be a bad dream. We did stop, of course. I don't think my mom knew quite what to do, we had just called her before the ultrasound to tell her that it looked like everything was going to be fine. When my dad came home, he just hugged me, and told me how sorry he was this was happening, and how unfair it was. Brian's parents reacted to the news about the same. There was a lot of crying and hugging.

I am not sure when exactly, but sometime either that day or maybe the next day, we met with the doctor who would be doing the D&C. I asked if their was some way I could just deliver the baby, and he told me no. The thought of them doing a D&C was extremely upsetting to me. This was a real baby to me, not just some growth that now had to be removed. The doctor couldn't get me in for a week. He told me that he didn't know why they make such a big deal about these procedures in Michigan, because where he use to practice, it was simply an office procedure. Compassionate man. We told him that we wanted to know if the baby was a boy or a girl, and he told us he thought that they could do a test on the remains and find out. No one had ever asked him to do that before though.

So, for a whole week, I walked around with my little baby, dead inside of me. This is not good for ones mental well being. I do not remember that week. We decided to bury our baby (who we later named Gavin) with Quinn. I hope this doesn't upset some people, but it was very comforting for me to think of them together. Once again, the funeral director was extremely compassionate, and did not charge us.

After the D&C, which was performed at an outpatient clinic, I was wheeled to the recovery room. It was one big room with about four other men in it! I could see Brian sitting across the room, I guess they called that section the waiting room but they wouldn't let him come over. The nurses kept trying to wake me up, but I just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up for a long time. I was crying, and no one really seemed to care. I had absolutely no privacy. When they were sure I was coherent again, they got me up and took me over to where Brian was sitting. There was just a chair, with a curtain around it. However, the nurses wanted to be able to see me, so they wouldn't shut the curtain. I don't want to seem bitter, but I had just lost a baby for crying out loud! I deserved some measure of privacy! So, there I sat bawling like a baby in the middle of a big room with a lot of other people in it. People think that it is easier to lose a baby early on like this, and not have to go through labor, but I would have to disagree. This experience was so much more horrible than when I delivered Quinn. Here they couldn't have cared less that you were grieving.

We planned the funeral for the following Sunday. The hospital had to run some test before they released the remains. When our funeral director called to arrange to pick them up, the hospital couldn't find Gavin. When they did locate him, the director was informed that the person in charge of that section of the hospital would not be in until Monday! The funeral director persisted, and they found someone else who had a key. The funeral director did not tell us about this at the time, which I am extremely thankful for.

Once again my father gave the talk at the grave site. Here is a small portion of that:

Just as the life of a newborn is important to us, the remembrance of one who dies is also important and needs our remembrance.

We know that Corey is good with babies. He would have been a good big brother.

Brian and Teresa will miss the unfulfilled love they would have showered on this baby. So we all have a great loss as family members of love we won't be able to give.

I thought that it was a beautiful talk.

One very upsetting thing happened as we were leaving the cemetery though. As we were just starting to leave, the men from the cemetery picked up the little casket and began to place it in the hole. I almost screamed. However, the funeral director was near enough and stopped them. I am very thankful to him for that.

A month later, the results of the test came back, and we found out that they were not able to tell if the baby had been a boy or a girl, he had been dead for too long. I believed in my heart that the baby was a boy, so we named him Gavin Merrell. Merrell is my father's and my brother's middle name.

Gavin was born on February 24, 1997. A little over a year later, my precious Arminda was born, much to the joy of her brother,Corey. He had been waiting so long.

When we went out to the cemetery when Corey was eight, I was crying, and Corey came over to me and said, "Mom next time you think of the babies that died, and start to cry, just remember that it wasn't your fault. It's not your fault they died." He is such an amazing little boy. How did he know?

I know this is old, but I don't want to take it out, it was wrote in 2000:
Arminda is trying to understand about the babies this year. When I asked her the other day, who Quinn and Gavin were, she said "The babies that died in your tummy, but I didn't die, I am ok." I don't know, but I thought that was pretty good for a two year old. When we picked out flowers to take this year, Arminda brought a pretty plant with red flowers over to me and said, "Can I get this for the babies?" Unfortunately, by the time we got to the cemetery she was fast asleep.