The whole story of Elizabeth, straight from my journal

I have retold the story in so many different ways, but some of them were long after the event happened, and so they aren't as clear as my journal entry of the event, written just a few days after we lost her.  I have taken just a few pieces from my journal to share with anyone who doesn't know the story.


Thursday, April 27th, 2006
From 1:37 - 3:14 pm, John and I were Instant-Messaging each other back and forth about my contractions and how excited we were that she might be coming that day. I was 39 wks along and we were SO excited for her to finally come get here.  I had called my sister to ask her if this was real labor, and she had described the way real labor would feel when it was time.


When John came home around 3:45 p.m., I showed him the chart I was making with the timing of my contractions.  We decided we should take a nap so I could get well rested before they got worse.  Just as we lay down, the contractions became just as painful as Emma had been describing to me.  So John rushed around the house getting everything ready for the hospital while I slowly got dressed between contractions, and it took us an hour to get out the door.


At 6:45 pm we arrived at the hospital. The nurses wheeled me upstairs in a wheelchair and tried to ask me all these questions but I could hardly breathe through the pain.  When we got to the room they disappeared.  A few moments later they were back and put me in a nightgown and got me on the bed.  I was in so much pain, I couldn’t think about anything.  While my contractions were coming one on top of the other, the nurses were twisting me around, making me more uncomfortable, trying to find the baby’s heartbeat.  I could hear them as a distant background noise, with my pain as the main focus in my brain.  They were having trouble finding the heartbeat, still hadn’t measured my cervix to see how far along I was, and were still chaotically asking if anyone had even called my midwife to let her know I was there.  


A doctor came in and said they weren’t having luck with the stethoscope and were going to try pricking the baby’s head to get a heartbeat.  I just nodded, not really aware of what was going on because I was in so much pain.  So they broke my water and tried four times to find the heartbeat with this new procedure.  There was a sinking feeling in my heart that had begun the moment I’d come into the room that my baby was no longer alive.  I heard the doctors saying they were going to do an ultrasound to see if they could find the heartbeat that way.  


Yet again, there was nothing.  


They didn’t have to say anything.  I felt I had known this was coming for a long time.  John whispered for me to “Pray Bethany, Pray…” The moment I started to pray, I knew I could not ask for my baby to be brought back to life.  There was a hopelessness in my heart that I could not ask Heavenly Father to do anything against His will.  I felt empty and drained, and hopeless.  And still, I was having so much pain I couldn’t really think about what was happening at all.  They gave me a drug to slow down my contractions so they were coming a lot less frequently now.  I had been measured at 6 centimeters, and just a few moments later, I was at 8.  I felt so confused that I was still having to deliver this baby that wasn’t even alive. 


At one point, all of the nurses had left the room, and John put his hands on my head to give me a priesthood blessing.  He began by saying that Heavenly Father loved me and that He loved Elizabeth very much.  John couldn’t say anything more after that because he just started crying.  We both knew it was what Heavenly Father wanted, and there was nothing we could do.


(Skipping the details of me pushing out the baby here) After I pushed the baby out and cut the cord, they asked if I wanted to hold her.  I was so overcome with a sense of disappointment that I told them I didn’t want to hold her.  I said they could just wash her off first, and then they let John hold her first.

After a while John brought me the baby, all snuggled up in a little white blanket.  I was still laying flat in the bed, and couldn’t even see her very well as he placed her in my arms.  She was still so warm, and looked as if she could wake up any moment.  She just looked so alive.  My first impression of her was how pretty her hair was.  I was in so much shock, I couldn’t think about much at all.  I just held her blankly.

After a while the nurses talked to us about what had happened.  They said they hadn’t rushed around trying to save her because they couldn’t find a heartbeat.  They said they thought the cause of death was the cord being wrapped around her throat 4 times (so tightly that I wasn't able to push her out the rest of the way until they cut the cord), but there was nothing physically wrong with the baby.  They said it wasn’t my fault and there was nothing I could have done.  

After a while they gave us some time to be alone.  We just held the baby and cried together, touching her sweet face and kissing her head.  It felt so unreal that this was happening to us.  

When the nurses came back in, they asked if we were going to have any visitors.  I didn’t feel like having anyone around at all.  But then they said the baby might not look as good the next day, and if we wanted our parents to see her, tonight would be the best time.  I realized they were right.  

So we called our parents and broke the painful news.  They hurried up to see us.  As my parents walked in the door, I just looked up at them with a blank face and dry eyes.  But when my mom rushed up to give me a hug, we both cried.  We talked more about what happened.  I told them I had been given impressions throughout my pregnancy that this was going to happen.  We took some pictures of our parents holding Elizabeth. 

They all said she looked so beautiful.  I asked John to give her a name and a blessing while both the dads were there.  The blessing said she would always be known by the name Annie Elizabeth Sell.  He blessed her that she would feel joy and love, and that she would be able to comfort me when I am feeling lonely or sad.  He said she would always be our daughter. 

Our parents left around 2 in the morning and the nurses asked us if we wanted to keep the baby in the room.  I said I wanted to hold her all night.  After the nurses left, John and I just lay in bed and held Elizabeth and cried.  I kissed her little head, and lay her on my chest with her little hand on my heart.  The best pictures we took were during that time we shared with her and cried.  

That night we had a family prayer with her and felt overcome with the spirit of gratitude.  I sang “I am a Child of God” to her because it seemed to fit so well.  After a while, we had the nurses take her back downstairs to keep her cold, that her body might be preserved a little longer.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with her in my arms.

  
April 28th, 2006

The next morning was a blur of nurses asking us about birth and death certificates, mortuary arrangements, a study they wanted to do on stillborn babies, and an overview of how I should take care of myself in the coming weeks.  Our parents came again and helped us decide a little more about the mortuary arrangements.  

While my dad was there, he gave me a father’s blessing.  In the blessing he said he felt Elizabeth’s feelings.  He said she was sad that we were feeling so much pain and sadness, and that she was mourning with us.  He said that we would be able to raise her in the Millennium, and she would always be a part of our family, and involved in our family life.  He said Heavenly Father loved me very much and this wasn’t an indication that he didn’t love me.  My sisters Cherie and Carinne and my brother Cameron came also.  I took a shower and felt ten times better, physically.  My sister Emma and her family came, and then we felt we just wanted to get out of the hospital and go home.

All the way home I stared out the window and felt such an emptiness inside me.  As we pulled into our carport, and got ready to get out of the car, I glanced back and saw the empty car seat in the backseat and started to bawl.  We were supposed to be bringing home a baby in that car seat and we weren’t.  As we walked into our condo and put the flowers on the table I saw the little flower pot shaped like baby booties and started to cry again.  For a while we just sat on the couch together and cried. 

Then my brother Austin and his wife Rachael showed up, as well as my mom and my sister Tricia.  They had all brought tons of food and good spirits.  We talked and laughed for a few hours and felt so much better to be in good company.  I felt that we should have time with other people as well as time to ourselves.

That night I woke up at 3 in the morning and couldn’t stop thinking.  I wanted so much to have my baby in my arms, and it seemed so unfair that she should be taken away from me.  I started to cry.  John woke up and held me for a while, and then we started talking.  I think what we talked about that night is what got me through the rest of the week.  We talked about things from God’s perspective.  We felt so grateful to have such friends and family surrounding us with so much love.  We felt so grateful not to be as Job who lost even his friends and family during his tribulations.  Our hearts were full of gratitude for all the blessings that were ours, even in this time of suffering.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

The next day was beautiful.  We got up and ate breakfast, and then we had some visitors.  Spencer and Sarah came over and we shared with them everything that happened.  As we talked to them, I felt such a spirit of faith and hope about me, that I spoke with such strength about what had happened.  I said that nine months of pregnancy and the pain of labor were definitely a sacrifice, but that I hadn’t done it for myself anyway.  So why should I expect to get something out of it?  I had done it all for Elizabeth and for Heavenly Father.  Not for me.  So if all she needed was a body, and Heavenly Father wanted to take her back to live with him, I shouldn’t be so upset, because I did the whole thing for them anyway.  I also told them that we weren’t sitting around asking “Why?” because we knew why.  It was because Heavenly Father wanted it this way.  So there was no use wondering if I should have come into the hospital sooner, or if I should have prayed harder for her to live, or if I did something wrong during my pregnancy.  It was Heavenly Father’s will that she die, and that was all there was to it.  As I was saying all of these things, I truly felt strong.  I felt as if I were being buoyed up by all of the faith and prayers of others during this time of trial.  Sarah had come in to our house crying, and when they left they seemed as if their faith had been strengthened.  The spirit was with me as I gave words of comfort for myself and others.  

Next, my aunt Devera showed up bawling.  She had been praying in the temple all day for us to feel comforted, and I knew that her prayers and the prayers of many others had buoyed us up and comforted us.  I ended up telling her all of the same things, and being a source of comfort to her as well.  It felt strange that people were coming over to comfort me, but I ended up being the shoulder to cry on and gain strength from.  I know Heavenly Father helped me through it, and helped me to give others hope.  By the time I had rehashed everything twice, I felt drained of all energy, and wished that everyone who thought we were grieving could have heard everything I just told Sarah and Devera.  I wanted everyone to know how honored we were to have Elizabeth come into our family, and I wanted them to know we were happy, and that we weren’t sitting around wondering why this had happened.  I wanted everyone else to feel happiness and hope as well.  So that became the goal for our funeral service.

After our visitors had left, John and I hurried over to the funeral home where we made some more decisions about the funeral, casket, and burial.  No parent should ever have to pick out a little casket for their baby.  I cannot describe the feelings I had standing in that room looking at caskets.  We decided to have a short service at the funeral home and then proceed to the Murray Cemetery where she would be buried. 

Before we left, I wanted to see Elizabeth, whom they had embalmed and was just downstairs.  As I walked into the room and saw her dead little body, I realized immediately that she just didn’t look the same.  She had looked so alive with us in the hospital that night, and now she just looked dead.  I only looked for a few seconds and turned right around to leave.  

I just wanted to cry all the way home.  I felt drained of all happiness and strength, and I just wanted to be alone.  The funeral director had given us back the little outfit we had dressed Elizabeth in at the hospital, and I just held it all the way home as if she were still inside, and cried.  We spent that night with our phone on silent and our front door locked.  We just needed time to be alone.  That night we pulled out some junk food and some games and just played together.

I woke up in the middle of the night again, and this time I just lay there numbly, staring into the black room, wondering how something so devastating could have happened.  I wished I could feel it.  I couldn’t cry or feel angry, or feel anything at all.  The longer I lay there, the more insane I felt.  Finally I woke John up and he talked with me for a little while until I fell asleep.

Sunday, April 30, 2006 

We woke up after church had started and decided we didn’t want to attend our ward anyway, until they had announced what had happened.  I didn’t want to go to church and have people see my flat belly, and ask me where my baby was.  

Later in the afternoon, we drove to my parents’ house and had a good talk with my mom, and ate dinner with my family.  All of my younger siblings were acting like punks, and I was feeling so depressed about how insensitive they were being, and how crappy the world is becoming.  I felt as if my heart was going to explode.  So we left my parents house and went home to be alone.  

I was beginning to feel like all of this had never happened, and Elizabeth had never come. 

She felt like a stranger whose death I was mourning, and I couldn’t stand it.  When we got home we pulled up the laptop and sat down together to look at all of the pictures of Elizabeth we had taken at the hospital.  It felt so good to really look at them more closely, and take the time to notice her facial features, etc.  It was a tender moment.  We picked out the pictures we liked best, and decided to make 8 X 10 copies of all of them.  

Monday, May 1, 2006

My friend Janel had driven all the way up from Arizona to show her love and support for me.  She’s such a sweetheart.  So they came over first thing in the morning, and we showed them the pictures and had some breakfast together.  Janel brought me a book called “Making Sense of Suffering”, and two brownie mixes just like we used to bake together in China when we missed American food.  

After breakfast we went to Sam’s club to develop the pictures for the funeral.  While we were waiting, we went to Wal-Mart to get three black picture frames for the 8 X 10s to display on the table at the viewing.  After the pictures were done, we met my mom at the mortuary and finished up the plans for tomorrow.  

Then we went over to my mom’s house where we decided on the music for the funeral service.  I decided “I feel my Savior’s Love” would be a perfect song, and that Emma could play her violin and my mom and Cherie could sing.  So Emma came over and we all went through the song a couple of times until I felt good about it.  Then John and I sat down and tried to figure out who would speak and pray, etc.  We decided to have both mothers give the opening and closing prayer, and both fathers carry the casket.  We pondered over the hymns and picked “Be Still My Soul” for the opening and “Oh My Father” for the closing.  They just felt perfect.  

Then, as we were sitting there, I talked about having Sarah speak because we had talked with them for hours on Saturday afternoon, and she knew how we felt about this whole thing, and could convey our feelings to everyone there.  I so much wanted everyone to know how happy Elizabeth was, and how much comfort we had in knowing where she was and why she had come.  So we decided Sarah was the perfect person to speak.  We also decided that I should take a little time at the end to share our thoughts and feelings with everyone.  And then we decided Janel could read the poem about a stillborn child that Annie Eliza, my great ancestor whom we had named Elizabeth after, had loved.

It had been a long stressful day, but we had accomplished a lot by getting all the plans for the funeral underway.  We drove home with Janel and Danny, who had left their car at our house.  When we saw our neighbors outside on the way to our house, we felt a little funny because I knew she was looking at my belly and wondering if I’d had the baby.  So we asked Janel and Danny to tell our neighbors the news on the way back to their car so we wouldn’t have to tell them.  It was a blessing they did that for us.

Tuesday, May 2, 2006

I woke up at 8:30 in the morning feeling stressed and nervous about having to speak in front of all those people.  It felt so weird that it was the day of our daughter’s funeral.  We took a shower and ate breakfast, but I felt too nervous to really eat much.  I wrote down some thoughts of what I wanted to convey to everyone at the funeral.  I couldn’t find anything to wear because everything in my closet was maternity and I didn’t have any dresses that I liked.  So I was stressing about that too.  I decided we would go over to my parents’ house and borrow a dress from Cherie or Carinne.  John was stressed about whether or not the mortuary had hymn books until we finally called them and found out they did.  I typed up the program outline and made a copy for Spencer, who I had asked to conduct, and a copy for the funeral director.  We got out the door at about 11:00 a.m. 

After borrowing a black skirt from Cherie and putting on a little makeup, I felt a lot better, and a little less nervous.  We headed over to the funeral home around 11:40.  When I walked in, I was amazed at how many people had come together and done things for us.  There were beautiful flower baskets brought by John’s mom and my sister Emma’s family.  Everything was set up so beautifully, and Elizabeth was dressed in the little white blessing dress my mom had made for her.  My mom had asked if she could dress her and I agreed.  I didn’t want to see my baby looking so much less alive than she had that first night we held her.  She just didn’t look the same.  *I regret now that I didn't take that extra time with Elizabeth*

I was surprised at how many people were already at the funeral home when we arrived.  As time went on, there was a steady flow of family, church members, and friends who came to offer their condolences.  Some of them just walked up to me and cried, gave me a hug, and walked away.  I felt so numb and unemotional that I didn’t shed a tear.  John kept telling people to look at the pictures, and not the coffin because they looked so much better, and she looked so much more alive.  

When the viewing was over and it was time for family prayer, John gave a sweet prayer of gratitude for all the people who came to show their love for Elizabeth.  He prayed that everyone would feel her sweet spirit.

After the prayer, everyone was invited to approach the casket and say their goodbyes, and then John and I were to come up last.  We walked up to Elizabeth and I held her little hand and kissed her head.  That was all it took to break me down to tears.  John touched her little head, and then we closed the casket.  We were both in tears.  Then we followed the funeral director as he wheeled he casket into the chapel, with all our family behind us.

After everyone was seated, my mom ran to grab the three pink roses we wanted to place on her casket.  Everyone watched silently as I placed them on her, and quickly walked to my seat in the front row next to John.  Spencer stood up and started the service.

The first song was “Be Still My Soul.”  As we were singing, I was frantically looking around for my thoughts I had written on that piece of paper and given to John.  We couldn’t find them anywhere.  I felt Elizabeth whisper, “Sing to me, mommy,” and decided I should sing. 

After the hymn, John’s mom stood up and gave the opening prayer.  Then it was John’s turn to stand up and introduce the musical number.  He said we had chosen “I Feel My Savior’s Love” because it was one of the many primary songs I would sing to Elizabeth while she was in my womb.  The musical number was performed by Tricia on the piano, Emma on the violin, and my mother and Cherie doing vocals.  As the song began, I was still feeling stressed out and kept asking John to look for the piece of paper.  Finally I just relaxed and listened to the song.  

We had decided on having the first time played through with just the violin and the piano, then having my mom sing the first verse to the piano, then both my mom and Cherie singing to the violin, and then just Cherie singing to the piano.  As the last verse began, my sister’s sweet voice came as such a contrast to the louder second verse with both singing to the violin.  It was just her sweet soft voice and the piano, and I felt flooded over with emotion.  Both John and I broke into tears and wept.  

When the musical number was over, Spencer introduced Janel Case as my best friend who would be sharing a poem, and then Sarah Elliot as the speaker, and me with some closing thoughts.  As soon as Sarah stood up, I felt completely relieved and overcome with the spirit.  She said she had felt privileged to spend a few hours with John and me on Saturday afternoon and to hear how we truly felt about the loss of our daughter.  She said she was amazed about how submissive we were about everything, and how much we were willing to accept God’s will in this tragedy.  I’d asked her to share some of the thoughts we had that she might convey to everyone how much happiness we felt.  She said just what I wanted.  Much of what I wanted to say, she said for me.  

As she sat down, I looked at Spencer to see if it was my turn and he nodded. 

I stood up feeling completely relaxed and full of the spirit.  I still remember almost exactly what I said:  “I wanted to thank everyone for all of their love and prayers.  I know some of you have been praying that we would feel comforted, and your prayers have been answered.  We have felt so much comfort from Heavenly Father and from our sweet daughter.  I feel so honored that Elizabeth would choose me to be her mother.  I feel honored that I could give back just a little after all of the blessings Heavenly Father has given me.  I feel so grateful that I could give such a small sacrifice after all that Christ has sacrificed for me.  Some people ask me, “what if you’d gotten to the hospital sooner,” or “what if you’d done something differently?”  But I know that you can’t outwit Heavenly Father.  If it was His will, it’s what we wanted.”  That is the main gist of what I said, and then I sat down.  

After the closing hymn, “Oh My Father,” and the closing prayer given by my mother, I felt completely full of happiness.  I felt complete closure.  

We stood and followed our two fathers who were carrying the casket outside to the limousine, where we climbed in to ride with Elizabeth to the gravesite.  I looked out the window at all of our friends and family piling out of the mortuary and I couldn’t have felt more happiness.  Elizabeth was happy, and I felt her happiness.  So much that I couldn’t stop smiling.