After two weeks of waiting for permits and certificates, we finally had everything cleared to lay our sweet boys to rest. It was January 26...1-26...which held special significance to us as 1:26pm was the time Mark Allen had came into this world just two short weeks before.
The day was overcast and dreary, just like our hearts. As we pulled up to the hill, we saw the pale petite blue casket, and suddenly our air was gone. There were our boys, not in the blue blankets and arms of loved ones, but in a cold, stale casket. Tears began to well as we slowly plodded uphill, our legs like sandbags.
Finally, we were in front of our boys and tears began to pour out as we held each other and wept. Through the tears we managed to say a few incoherent words of comfort. After collecting ourselves briefly, we were able to pray one last time as a family. We have never wanted more for this world to pass and for us to be with our boys and Creator than in that instant.
A few more moments passed and Jess began to read the children's book our pastor had read at the memorial Guess How Much I Love You. It was a feeble attempt for us to try and communicate one last time just how deeply and powerfully we loved our boys. With a quick nod several workers appeared to lower the casket into the grave. On top of the casket we placed several yellow roses. With all courage we could muster we hugged one last time and said goodbye...it was 1:26pm.
As we stiffly walked back towards the car numbed and hardened by life's cruelty we couldn't help but feel like we were ourselves being held by our heavenly father. It was Him who was reading to us "I love you right up to the moon and back." With a flood of confidence we knew that we would make it through together and that He would turn our mourning into gladness (Isaiah 61).
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Memorial Service
It was 1:30pm Sunday and I felt like I was driving 130 mph down the I-5...a lump in my throat, tears welling in my eyes, and emotional exhaustion plaguing my being. In a frantic search for normalcy, of some kind, I stopped at Petco to return the 7 piece grooming kit I had bought with noble intentions but knew would likely never be used and swung by a potential development site I had been meaning to drive-by for several weeks. Unfortunately, the "normal" didn't help and I was left with a heavy heart. The weather seemed to match my mood overcast with low, brooding clouds that were starting to spit a little.
I arrived at my Grandparents house in Point Loma around 2:45pm. I tried to find a little more normal with the Charger playoff game and some time with family. The normal still wasn't helping and soon I found myself alone while everyone else was getting ready. Reluctantly, I decided it was time for me to do the same. A few minutes later in full suit and tie I headed to the Ellipse Chapel were I was to meet up with Jess, who had been getting ready with her college roommates back at our apartment. As we arrived the rain that had been an intermittent drizzle began to fall more heavily.
We huddled in the kitchen/supply area of the chapel as we waited for the time to arrive. The cold, stark, hard environment made it seem like an eternity. Thankfully, Jess' parents, my Mom, and two of Jess' closest work friends, Daniella and Heather, joined us for a quick prayer. A few minutes later, Pastor Marc Otto and Pastor Dee Kelley joined us, the time had arrived.
Uncomfortably, we walked down the aisle and stiffly sat at the front on the chapel. Pastor Marc opened with a brief prayer and led us in singling the hymn, "It is Well." He then read Romans 5:3-5 which had been a verse we had clung to throughout our ordeal. It states: "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."
Jeremy Watkins followed by performing the song, "Our God is in Control," written by Steven Curtis Chapman. Briefly into the song Jess and I were overwhelmed by the lyrics that seemed to capture our testimony perfectly. Jess proudly lifted her hand and I followed, my fist clenched in honor and overpowering emotion for our God who is in control even when "this is not how it should be, this is not how it could be" and "this first taste is bitter," yet, "we'll sing holy, holy, holy is our God."
After this powerful moment Pastor Dee Kelley gave a eulogy to Mark Allen and Jesse Robert as told through the blog. It was a powerful and moving depiction of the difficult journey we had been on. This was followed by a brief message that included the reading of a children's book, "Guess How Much I Love You." It was a beautiful illustration of the love we felt for our two sons at that moment.
Following Dee's message were reflections given by my Uncle Jim, Jess' Dad, and myself. Uncle Jim gave a powerful witness of the hope we have that one day will allow us to be in the presence of God in heaven with all of our loved ones. He told us of the altar he has made out of stone in the foothills near his house, each stone representing a specific prayer. Soon after hearing about our ordeal with Mark and Jesse he found two small stones to remember them. What an amazing blessing to have a family who loves so much and is so faithful to the hope God has given. Jess' Dad started with an analogy of the similarity of the service that day to our wedding four years ago. Upon hearing the words Jess burst into tears as the similarity had been haunting her throughout the week. He went on to tell the story in 2 Samuel 12:15-23 of how David loses a child and states, "I will go to him," which captures the hope that Mark Allen and Jesse Robert are resting in heaven and that we will one day return to them. I then got up and shakily spoke about our prayers through this journey had been answered, including our desire that this circumstance would be used to draw others closer to Christ, inexplicable peace and joy, and the protection of Jess' health. I also spoke of the thankful hearts we had forgetting a tiny glimpse into what it must have been like for God to give up his son to be crucified.
To end the service Pastor Marc led us in singing "Jesus Loves Me" acapella. This was the song we sung to Mark Allen right before we gave him back to the nurses and seemed to be a fitting way to end the service. I like to think this is a song that Mark Allen might have sung to us at that moment, if he could, to comfort us. The simple childlike melody seems to so succinctly capture the love from Christ, a love that proclaims no matter what happens in this world I love you and I will restore you.
Finally, a brief benediction was given and the service was over. We quickly shuffled our way to the back of the chapel for a reception line where we could thank those who came for their love and support. About two hours later we were able to leave and headed to my grandparents house for a meal with our families. As I slowly consumed the food it felt as though I was having an out of body experience. I seemed to be holding a conversation while completely off in another world trying to somehow digest all that had taken place. I still don't think that day has entirely settled yet, but I do know that God has been faithful and that our hope endures.
I arrived at my Grandparents house in Point Loma around 2:45pm. I tried to find a little more normal with the Charger playoff game and some time with family. The normal still wasn't helping and soon I found myself alone while everyone else was getting ready. Reluctantly, I decided it was time for me to do the same. A few minutes later in full suit and tie I headed to the Ellipse Chapel were I was to meet up with Jess, who had been getting ready with her college roommates back at our apartment. As we arrived the rain that had been an intermittent drizzle began to fall more heavily.
We huddled in the kitchen/supply area of the chapel as we waited for the time to arrive. The cold, stark, hard environment made it seem like an eternity. Thankfully, Jess' parents, my Mom, and two of Jess' closest work friends, Daniella and Heather, joined us for a quick prayer. A few minutes later, Pastor Marc Otto and Pastor Dee Kelley joined us, the time had arrived.
Uncomfortably, we walked down the aisle and stiffly sat at the front on the chapel. Pastor Marc opened with a brief prayer and led us in singling the hymn, "It is Well." He then read Romans 5:3-5 which had been a verse we had clung to throughout our ordeal. It states: "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."
Jeremy Watkins followed by performing the song, "Our God is in Control," written by Steven Curtis Chapman. Briefly into the song Jess and I were overwhelmed by the lyrics that seemed to capture our testimony perfectly. Jess proudly lifted her hand and I followed, my fist clenched in honor and overpowering emotion for our God who is in control even when "this is not how it should be, this is not how it could be" and "this first taste is bitter," yet, "we'll sing holy, holy, holy is our God."
After this powerful moment Pastor Dee Kelley gave a eulogy to Mark Allen and Jesse Robert as told through the blog. It was a powerful and moving depiction of the difficult journey we had been on. This was followed by a brief message that included the reading of a children's book, "Guess How Much I Love You." It was a beautiful illustration of the love we felt for our two sons at that moment.
Following Dee's message were reflections given by my Uncle Jim, Jess' Dad, and myself. Uncle Jim gave a powerful witness of the hope we have that one day will allow us to be in the presence of God in heaven with all of our loved ones. He told us of the altar he has made out of stone in the foothills near his house, each stone representing a specific prayer. Soon after hearing about our ordeal with Mark and Jesse he found two small stones to remember them. What an amazing blessing to have a family who loves so much and is so faithful to the hope God has given. Jess' Dad started with an analogy of the similarity of the service that day to our wedding four years ago. Upon hearing the words Jess burst into tears as the similarity had been haunting her throughout the week. He went on to tell the story in 2 Samuel 12:15-23 of how David loses a child and states, "I will go to him," which captures the hope that Mark Allen and Jesse Robert are resting in heaven and that we will one day return to them. I then got up and shakily spoke about our prayers through this journey had been answered, including our desire that this circumstance would be used to draw others closer to Christ, inexplicable peace and joy, and the protection of Jess' health. I also spoke of the thankful hearts we had forgetting a tiny glimpse into what it must have been like for God to give up his son to be crucified.
To end the service Pastor Marc led us in singing "Jesus Loves Me" acapella. This was the song we sung to Mark Allen right before we gave him back to the nurses and seemed to be a fitting way to end the service. I like to think this is a song that Mark Allen might have sung to us at that moment, if he could, to comfort us. The simple childlike melody seems to so succinctly capture the love from Christ, a love that proclaims no matter what happens in this world I love you and I will restore you.
Finally, a brief benediction was given and the service was over. We quickly shuffled our way to the back of the chapel for a reception line where we could thank those who came for their love and support. About two hours later we were able to leave and headed to my grandparents house for a meal with our families. As I slowly consumed the food it felt as though I was having an out of body experience. I seemed to be holding a conversation while completely off in another world trying to somehow digest all that had taken place. I still don't think that day has entirely settled yet, but I do know that God has been faithful and that our hope endures.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Consecration of Land
It was 10:00 am on Sunday, January 17th and Rob and I had just parked at the cemetery. As I looked out the passenger window, I saw crystal clear blue sky, vibrant green grass, and all of our loved ones at the top of the hill...the hill that was going to host the physical bodies of my sweet boys. "Maybe if I close my eyes, this nightmare will go away. I'll just wake up with my big belly and feel Mark Allen's precious kicks." I closed my eyes and when I opened them, the images still remained out my window. I took a deep breath, wiped me tears, opened the door, and grabbed Rob's hand...this is reality.
My eyes stayed glued to my feet as we walked up the hill. I smiled as I saw teddy bears, metal butterflies, golf balls, and wind chimes next to several other grave markers that represent the other children that lay there. These were going to be Mark Allen and Jesse Robert's friends. They are ALL in heaven smiling, laughing, and rejoicing for our eternal FATHER, Jesus...We finally made it to the top of the hill and sat by the tree that would soon know our regular presence. Surrounding us was a circle of our parents, our grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and dear family friends. After a few brief moments my Dad opened our Consecration of Land service with a prayer and a few words...
Most of the service was a blur, but one particular verse my Dad quoted stuck out to me, it was Psalm 24:1-6 "The EARTH is the Lord's and everything in it, the world, and all who LIVE in it; for He founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters. Who may ascend the HILL of the Lord? Who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to an idol or swear by what is false. He will receive blessings from the Lord and vindication from God his Savior. Such is the generation of those who seek Him, who seek your face, O God of Jacob."
We had deep red rose petals for everyone to place on the ground to represent their first gift to Mark Allen and Jesse Robert. Red was chosen because it was the color of the roses Rob gave me on our first anniversary of dating, it was the color of the rose petals that lined our wedding aisle, it was the color of the roses Rob gave me for my last birthday...and now they were the color of roses that represented the love and tears that were laid at our boys' resting spot.
Rob and I were told to lay our gift down first...Rob walked the few steps from the tree to the grass. He bent a knee and spoke to his boys as a Daddy. I turned my head away from Rob and started to stare at the tree. "I cannot watch this"..."I cannot see the love of my life in such pain and sadness"...As soon as those thought came to mind, I knew that they were not true. I needed to be with husband. I turned my head and crawled to Rob. I laid my beautiful rose petals down and wept. My head hit the grass as I was thinking "My boys, my sweet boys. I miss you. My arms ache for you...Please, Please love my boys, Jesus"...At that moment it was just Rob and I. I heard no one else, I saw no one else...it was just our family, THE MORGANS. I grabbed Rob's face and started audibly saying "We are going to make it. We are going to make it. OK, we are going to make it." Rob nodded his head. I did not say it for him or for our family and friends, I said it for ME. I needed to hear it that despite this horrible tragic situation that I don't understand at all...Rob and I are going to MAKE IT...through God's grace, mercy, and love.
Our family and friends started to lay down their gifts...some spoke words of hope to us...some spoke words of love to our boys...and some spoke no words at all for the tears rolling down their face said enough. Even little eighteen month old Ava, Rob's second cousin, dropped rose petals and said "Luv Mark & Jesse"...Our boys were and are LOVED...the rose petals were shaped into a heart; a heart that represents everyone who was there; a heart that represents the hole in our heart that will always be open for Mark Allen and Jesse Robert.
Rob's cousin, Nathan, also wrote a blog entry about this service. It provides a beautiful perspective of one of those among the "circle". http://nathans350.blogspot.com/2010/01/rob-and-jess.html
My eyes stayed glued to my feet as we walked up the hill. I smiled as I saw teddy bears, metal butterflies, golf balls, and wind chimes next to several other grave markers that represent the other children that lay there. These were going to be Mark Allen and Jesse Robert's friends. They are ALL in heaven smiling, laughing, and rejoicing for our eternal FATHER, Jesus...We finally made it to the top of the hill and sat by the tree that would soon know our regular presence. Surrounding us was a circle of our parents, our grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and dear family friends. After a few brief moments my Dad opened our Consecration of Land service with a prayer and a few words...
Most of the service was a blur, but one particular verse my Dad quoted stuck out to me, it was Psalm 24:1-6 "The EARTH is the Lord's and everything in it, the world, and all who LIVE in it; for He founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters. Who may ascend the HILL of the Lord? Who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to an idol or swear by what is false. He will receive blessings from the Lord and vindication from God his Savior. Such is the generation of those who seek Him, who seek your face, O God of Jacob."
We had deep red rose petals for everyone to place on the ground to represent their first gift to Mark Allen and Jesse Robert. Red was chosen because it was the color of the roses Rob gave me on our first anniversary of dating, it was the color of the rose petals that lined our wedding aisle, it was the color of the roses Rob gave me for my last birthday...and now they were the color of roses that represented the love and tears that were laid at our boys' resting spot.
Rob and I were told to lay our gift down first...Rob walked the few steps from the tree to the grass. He bent a knee and spoke to his boys as a Daddy. I turned my head away from Rob and started to stare at the tree. "I cannot watch this"..."I cannot see the love of my life in such pain and sadness"...As soon as those thought came to mind, I knew that they were not true. I needed to be with husband. I turned my head and crawled to Rob. I laid my beautiful rose petals down and wept. My head hit the grass as I was thinking "My boys, my sweet boys. I miss you. My arms ache for you...Please, Please love my boys, Jesus"...At that moment it was just Rob and I. I heard no one else, I saw no one else...it was just our family, THE MORGANS. I grabbed Rob's face and started audibly saying "We are going to make it. We are going to make it. OK, we are going to make it." Rob nodded his head. I did not say it for him or for our family and friends, I said it for ME. I needed to hear it that despite this horrible tragic situation that I don't understand at all...Rob and I are going to MAKE IT...through God's grace, mercy, and love.
Our family and friends started to lay down their gifts...some spoke words of hope to us...some spoke words of love to our boys...and some spoke no words at all for the tears rolling down their face said enough. Even little eighteen month old Ava, Rob's second cousin, dropped rose petals and said "Luv Mark & Jesse"...Our boys were and are LOVED...the rose petals were shaped into a heart; a heart that represents everyone who was there; a heart that represents the hole in our heart that will always be open for Mark Allen and Jesse Robert.
Rob's cousin, Nathan, also wrote a blog entry about this service. It provides a beautiful perspective of one of those among the "circle". http://nathans350.blogspot.com/2010/01/rob-and-jess.html
Friday, January 22, 2010
Jesse Robert Morgan
As most of you know, Rob and I were originally pregnant with twins. Two lives. "Twin B" passed at 7 weeks and 2 days according to the doctor, which was determined by measuring the baby during the ultrasound at our 8 week appointment. September 14, 2009 the day the doctor said his little heart stopped beating. I remember it being a typical beautiful San Diego day. Nothing major happened during the day that I can recall and at night Rob and I went to a San Diego Padres game as a fundraiser for my hospital/unit. The Padres lost but I remember laughing and smiling that night, eating a huge plate of cheesy nachos....little did I know that I just lost a life inside me.
At our 8 week appointment, we were bombarded with the news that we did indeed have twins but lost one and that potentially something was wrong with the other baby. Rob and I wept in the doctor's office, not for the baby we lost, but for Mark Allen. We shed tears of worry and fear for our baby who had a heartbeat. I remember telling family and friends the story but concentrating only my worry on Mark Allen. "Twin B" was a footnote. That life was a mere descriptive adjective. I remember Brittany, my good friend who was in the delivery, asking me "Aren't you sad about 'Twin B'?" I shrugged my shoulders and callously responded "I guess". I felt that we walked into the doctor's office with the knowledge that we had A baby and we left with A baby.
Seven weeks passed with no more than a fleeting thought given to "Twin B." It was then when we received news that it was an acardiac twin. Acardia is a condition in a twin pregnancy where one of the babies passes away, while the other baby continues to provide nutrients to the one that has passed. This causes the lifeless baby to continue to grow despite not being alive. Typically this growth occurs from the waist down which was true in our case....the life of "Twin B" was once again being talked about. I remember feeling mad and angry at "Twin B". "How dare this thing attack my baby!". It was a leech. He was taking my sweet boy's nutrients and putting Mark Allen's precious life in jeopardy. It was attacking our family and the few moments we might have with Mark Allen on this earth. I was ANGRY. I called it an "alien" and "chicken" when I described that body. The physical body meant NOTHING to me. It was tissue that just happened to keep growing because he was getting our son's nutrients.
The day we found out Mark Allen's sex, I was praying, hard, that we would also find that "Twin B" had stopped growing, that it's threat on Mark Allen was gone....Nope, it was still growing. It was still attacking OUR BABY. We watched Mark Allen on the screen with tears of joy and beaming smiles. When the ultrasound tech showed "Twin B" on the screen, I made a look of disgust. I had not ONE maternal thought towards it. The tech showed us that HE did indeed have 10 toes with cute little scrunched up feet, and that they MOVED. I was thinking "Oh gross, it moves. It really is an alien.". Rob and I went home just thinking boys. We would have had identical twin boys. I was starting to mourn the loss of "Twin B's" life because I was dreaming of the "what if's". However, I was mourning the little 7 week old fetus, not these crazy legs that move.
My "what if" thoughts continued for days....weeks. We would have had identical twin boys. I could not stop thinking of Rob's Grandpa Jack. He is an identical twin. His brother, Uncle Dick, and him have an amazing bond. Even in their '80s they continue to communicate several times a day. They beam with pride when they go to family functions and get to wear their matching outfits. Grandpa Jack tells almost every person that he meets "I am a twin"....Our boys will never have that bond...that pride...we were so sad.
On our final appointment with the perinatologist, when they told us that "the time was coming," "Twin B's" legs were STILL growing. The legs had severe edema (swelling). The doctor compared the swelling to heart failure. "Twin B" was receiving so much blood and nutrients that his body did not know what to do with it so his legs swelled (plus with no heart, he could not push the blood back out of his body). Mark Allen was giving him TOO much of his blood. Our unborn child was determined to keep his BROTHER with him even if it was just his physical body.
As we were planning for the upcoming difficult delivery and our first meeting with Mark Allen, hospice asked what we would like to do with "Twin B". Once again I had a look of disgust, I wanted to shout at these nice hospice workers that the hospital could throw those legs in the trash for all I cared. Now I was comparing our son to garbage. Rob and I finally came to the conclusion that we did not want to SEE our other son, "Twin B", but the hospital could keep the "legs" after delivery until we could decide what we wanted to do.
We entered the hospital on January 11th with the same mindset....We did not want to see "Twin B". Now, I believe that Rob would have been fine with seeing the legs and maybe even wanted to, but he respected my wishes and we stuck to the plan. We had the delivery and Mark Allen came first. I was giving Mark Allen ALL my attention, as he rested on my chest. "Twin B" came next as the nurse shielded my eyes with a receiving blanket and then quickly wrapped up the legs and walked briskly out of the room. That was that in my opinion. We were finally done with that leech of a creature.
After the family left on the 12th, Rob and I had some blissful time alone to weep, bond, and care for Mark Allen. When we started to compose ourselves after those wonderful moments, Rob went to the cafeteria for some much needed food. It was just Mark Allen and his Mommy. I was beaming....and then out of nowhere I heard a whisper in my ear "You have another son". "What, are you talking to ME?" the one who just carried this child for 6 months with the pain of knowing that I would have to say "good-bye" on the same day I said "hello". I was thinking "Haven't I done enough, God?". After that mental conversion, the statement was quickly gone from my mind. We were holding our baby and we had the most precious night of our lives with our son, Mark Allen. It was perfect!
I woke up on the 13th and frantically did our "oh, how I love you!" posting, not with the intention to inform everyone. I wanted to remember my feelings and senses from the day; the way Mark Allen looked, felt, and smelt. However, I could never shake that sweet whisper I heard in my ear. Let me be very clear, I have NEVER heard God's audible voice. In fact when I was sharing it with Rob, I asked him if that voice was a result of my exhaustion, or maybe a side effect of the epidural, or just my subconscious. Of course, he too did not know the answer but he was receptive to my story and my conviction. Before we left the hospital we knew we needed to name our other son....
After two very frantic days of planning and coordinating the Celebration of Life Service, I knew that I needed to face the inevitable. We needed to find a name for our son. We already knew that his middle name would be after his Daddy, Robert. Naming a child that has already past was VERY difficult for us. We would find a name and like the meaning and then say "Wait, we know 4 people with that name". It was important to us that our family or friends would have no shame or guilt being around us because of their NAME. Finally at two in the morning, I opened up our laptop and went back to the biblical baby name website. I went through every letter but when I got to the J names, I found it.....Jesse: Biblical character who was the father of the Great King David and was a forefather of our Almighty, Jesus (1 Samuel 17:12). It was perfect! Also, Jessie (that is how I spell it for a girl) is one of my favorite nicknames that only my Dad and few dear friends call me...We were going to name our son after US. He was part of our family too! How appropriate that his name means GIFT (John 3:8).
Jesse Robert was a gift. He was a gift that God gave us but I rejected him. I was refusing God's gift and shoving his existence in the corner. Now, I know that Rob and I at the time made the best decision that we could and part of the reason, we or I came to those conclusions/thoughts, was to protect ourselves. But still, I feel like I betrayed my son and told him in every way that I did not love him. Mark Allen was determined to have his little brother with him in the womb. They had an unexplainable bond. They had pride of their uniqueness as twins just like their Great-Grandpa Jack.
Jesse Robert is our son and we love him SO much just like his brother. He is our treasured gift. Now, we have decided to not only name our forgotten son but also have him laid to rest with his brother. Their physical bodies entered this world together and their physical bodies will leave this world together....Jesse Robert, please forgive me. We will always love you Jesse! We will never forget you! We cannot wait to tell your brothers and sisters about their big brother Jesse!
This is OUR PRAYER for our family and our future:
At our 8 week appointment, we were bombarded with the news that we did indeed have twins but lost one and that potentially something was wrong with the other baby. Rob and I wept in the doctor's office, not for the baby we lost, but for Mark Allen. We shed tears of worry and fear for our baby who had a heartbeat. I remember telling family and friends the story but concentrating only my worry on Mark Allen. "Twin B" was a footnote. That life was a mere descriptive adjective. I remember Brittany, my good friend who was in the delivery, asking me "Aren't you sad about 'Twin B'?" I shrugged my shoulders and callously responded "I guess". I felt that we walked into the doctor's office with the knowledge that we had A baby and we left with A baby.
Seven weeks passed with no more than a fleeting thought given to "Twin B." It was then when we received news that it was an acardiac twin. Acardia is a condition in a twin pregnancy where one of the babies passes away, while the other baby continues to provide nutrients to the one that has passed. This causes the lifeless baby to continue to grow despite not being alive. Typically this growth occurs from the waist down which was true in our case....the life of "Twin B" was once again being talked about. I remember feeling mad and angry at "Twin B". "How dare this thing attack my baby!". It was a leech. He was taking my sweet boy's nutrients and putting Mark Allen's precious life in jeopardy. It was attacking our family and the few moments we might have with Mark Allen on this earth. I was ANGRY. I called it an "alien" and "chicken" when I described that body. The physical body meant NOTHING to me. It was tissue that just happened to keep growing because he was getting our son's nutrients.
The day we found out Mark Allen's sex, I was praying, hard, that we would also find that "Twin B" had stopped growing, that it's threat on Mark Allen was gone....Nope, it was still growing. It was still attacking OUR BABY. We watched Mark Allen on the screen with tears of joy and beaming smiles. When the ultrasound tech showed "Twin B" on the screen, I made a look of disgust. I had not ONE maternal thought towards it. The tech showed us that HE did indeed have 10 toes with cute little scrunched up feet, and that they MOVED. I was thinking "Oh gross, it moves. It really is an alien.". Rob and I went home just thinking boys. We would have had identical twin boys. I was starting to mourn the loss of "Twin B's" life because I was dreaming of the "what if's". However, I was mourning the little 7 week old fetus, not these crazy legs that move.
My "what if" thoughts continued for days....weeks. We would have had identical twin boys. I could not stop thinking of Rob's Grandpa Jack. He is an identical twin. His brother, Uncle Dick, and him have an amazing bond. Even in their '80s they continue to communicate several times a day. They beam with pride when they go to family functions and get to wear their matching outfits. Grandpa Jack tells almost every person that he meets "I am a twin"....Our boys will never have that bond...that pride...we were so sad.
On our final appointment with the perinatologist, when they told us that "the time was coming," "Twin B's" legs were STILL growing. The legs had severe edema (swelling). The doctor compared the swelling to heart failure. "Twin B" was receiving so much blood and nutrients that his body did not know what to do with it so his legs swelled (plus with no heart, he could not push the blood back out of his body). Mark Allen was giving him TOO much of his blood. Our unborn child was determined to keep his BROTHER with him even if it was just his physical body.
As we were planning for the upcoming difficult delivery and our first meeting with Mark Allen, hospice asked what we would like to do with "Twin B". Once again I had a look of disgust, I wanted to shout at these nice hospice workers that the hospital could throw those legs in the trash for all I cared. Now I was comparing our son to garbage. Rob and I finally came to the conclusion that we did not want to SEE our other son, "Twin B", but the hospital could keep the "legs" after delivery until we could decide what we wanted to do.
We entered the hospital on January 11th with the same mindset....We did not want to see "Twin B". Now, I believe that Rob would have been fine with seeing the legs and maybe even wanted to, but he respected my wishes and we stuck to the plan. We had the delivery and Mark Allen came first. I was giving Mark Allen ALL my attention, as he rested on my chest. "Twin B" came next as the nurse shielded my eyes with a receiving blanket and then quickly wrapped up the legs and walked briskly out of the room. That was that in my opinion. We were finally done with that leech of a creature.
After the family left on the 12th, Rob and I had some blissful time alone to weep, bond, and care for Mark Allen. When we started to compose ourselves after those wonderful moments, Rob went to the cafeteria for some much needed food. It was just Mark Allen and his Mommy. I was beaming....and then out of nowhere I heard a whisper in my ear "You have another son". "What, are you talking to ME?" the one who just carried this child for 6 months with the pain of knowing that I would have to say "good-bye" on the same day I said "hello". I was thinking "Haven't I done enough, God?". After that mental conversion, the statement was quickly gone from my mind. We were holding our baby and we had the most precious night of our lives with our son, Mark Allen. It was perfect!
I woke up on the 13th and frantically did our "oh, how I love you!" posting, not with the intention to inform everyone. I wanted to remember my feelings and senses from the day; the way Mark Allen looked, felt, and smelt. However, I could never shake that sweet whisper I heard in my ear. Let me be very clear, I have NEVER heard God's audible voice. In fact when I was sharing it with Rob, I asked him if that voice was a result of my exhaustion, or maybe a side effect of the epidural, or just my subconscious. Of course, he too did not know the answer but he was receptive to my story and my conviction. Before we left the hospital we knew we needed to name our other son....
After two very frantic days of planning and coordinating the Celebration of Life Service, I knew that I needed to face the inevitable. We needed to find a name for our son. We already knew that his middle name would be after his Daddy, Robert. Naming a child that has already past was VERY difficult for us. We would find a name and like the meaning and then say "Wait, we know 4 people with that name". It was important to us that our family or friends would have no shame or guilt being around us because of their NAME. Finally at two in the morning, I opened up our laptop and went back to the biblical baby name website. I went through every letter but when I got to the J names, I found it.....Jesse: Biblical character who was the father of the Great King David and was a forefather of our Almighty, Jesus (1 Samuel 17:12). It was perfect! Also, Jessie (that is how I spell it for a girl) is one of my favorite nicknames that only my Dad and few dear friends call me...We were going to name our son after US. He was part of our family too! How appropriate that his name means GIFT (John 3:8).
Jesse Robert was a gift. He was a gift that God gave us but I rejected him. I was refusing God's gift and shoving his existence in the corner. Now, I know that Rob and I at the time made the best decision that we could and part of the reason, we or I came to those conclusions/thoughts, was to protect ourselves. But still, I feel like I betrayed my son and told him in every way that I did not love him. Mark Allen was determined to have his little brother with him in the womb. They had an unexplainable bond. They had pride of their uniqueness as twins just like their Great-Grandpa Jack.
Jesse Robert is our son and we love him SO much just like his brother. He is our treasured gift. Now, we have decided to not only name our forgotten son but also have him laid to rest with his brother. Their physical bodies entered this world together and their physical bodies will leave this world together....Jesse Robert, please forgive me. We will always love you Jesse! We will never forget you! We cannot wait to tell your brothers and sisters about their big brother Jesse!
This is OUR PRAYER for our family and our future:
The Branch of Jesse
"A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him--
The Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
The Spirit of counsel and of power,
The Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD--
And he will delight in the fear of the LORD."
Isaiah 11:1-3
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Celebration of Life
Mark Allen's Celebration of Life Service has been scheduled for 4:30pm Sunday, January 17th at the following location. All are welcome to come and celebrate his precious life...it would be an honor to have you there.
San Diego First Church of the Nazarene - Ellipse Chapel
3901 Lomaland Dr.
San Diego, CA 92106
Expressions of Love
We thank you all so much for the many beautiful flowers, gifts, and expressions of support we have received so far. We would be honored if all such expressions of love be sent to Cleft Palate Away, a non-profit organization put together by a close family member. 100% of the funds go towards cleft palate surgeries for the poorest of the poor in Vietnam. We think it fitting that through this situation Mark Allen might provide a new lease on life to other children through a new smile.
Cleft Palate Away
13313 Southwest Freeway, Suite 291
Sugar Land, TX 77478
281-242-1114
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Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Oh, how I love you!
January 11th, we had a doctor's appointment at 2:45pm. The Nurse Practitioner did an exam and it showed that I was 2 cm dilated and that the water sac was starting to protrude out of my cervix. She told us that Mark Allen is on his way and that we need to quickly go to the hosptial. I was mentally prepared that this might be the finding at the appointment but I was praying so hard that it might not come true, but the reality was that the time had come. We went home got our bags and made quite a few frantic phone calls to try to get family down.
By 4:45pm, I was admitted to Scripps Memorial in La Jolla. They immediately began to monitor my contractions, started an IV, and drew labs. I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes but my dilation was the same. The pain was tolerable and it was just more that I was uncomfortable. In fact, it was the same pain I had been feeling since I was 16 weeks with my "cramping" which the doctor informed me must have been contractions all along. Then the waiting game began. The doctor told me that they could immediately start an epidural and the pitocin in order to move labor along but I did not want to yet. I wanted to wait for family to arrive first.
My sister, Abby, was already here. She had flown down on the 10th in order to keep me company and I felt so blessed to have her by my side for everything. My Mom took the last flight out of Oakland and landed at 10:00pm. Rob's grandparents live in San Diego and they were ready at a moments notice. My dear friend Brittany (we met in nursing school), came down after working a long 12 hour shift, then had to drive a couple of hours and arrived at 11:00pm. My Dad, Allen, and Teddy drove all night after dropping my mom off at the airport and got here around 3:30am. That was all the family that was coming although my brother Bobby, Rob's Mom, and his sister, Jamie, were deeply missed...It was time to begin.
At 4:30am, the anesthesiologist came and started my epidural. After about 15 minutes, the numbness and pain control started to kick in. The nurse started my pitocin drip to help my contractions get stronger and for my dilation to progress. Once the doctor and nurse left the room and it was just Rob and I, I realized that I will never feel our sweet little boy kick again. The tears were rolling down my face and then by God's sweet mercy, I felt one last kick. It was precious and it was as if Mark was telling me, "It's okay Mommy."
The intensity and frequency of my contractions did increase, but for the most part I was very comfortable and able to rest. At 10:00am, the doctor came in and checked my progression. I was 4 cm dilated. She broke my water in order to speed things up. The doctors were not lying when the said I had a lot of amniotic fluid. It was a ton. It sounded like someone had turned a 2-liter soda bottle over and was pouring it out. My pregnant belly vanished right away. The time was approaching. By 12:00pm, I was still at 4cm so they turned up the pitocin. Due to the fact that I was only 24 weeks pregnant and Mark was going to be so small, I only had to get to 5 cm in order to deliver. One hour later, the time had come...
After five sets of pushing, our little boy was here...1:26pm...he did not survive the birth. He was already in Jesus' arms. He was meeting his Grandpa Mark, all his great-grandparents, his second cousin, and so many other loved ones. Rob and I picture him just running around with his brother and that they are laughing, sweet little laughs, with all the adults surrounding them with huge smiles. He is in a better place....
When the doctor placed him on my chest, all I could say was "Hello, Handsome. We love you!" Despite his many bodily abnormalities, he was perfect. I have never seen anything that was more beautiful and that I love more...He was very small, 14 oz and 9 1/2 inches long. He had the cutest arms and legs. They were an exact replica of Rob's except for maybe his calves those might have been mine :). I just kept looking at Rob's hands and looking at Mark's and marveling how much they looked the same. In comparision to his size, he had a long torso and big hands and feet just like his Daddy. Like Father, Like Son.
Once we got him cleaned up and put a cute little cap on him, we brought the family in to see the most precious little boy. Everyone had smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, an organization of professional photographers who volunteer their time for fatal prenatal diagnosis, came in and captured a few minutes of all of us holding Mark and loving him. I am so grateful that they were able to come in and I cannot wait to see the pictures that I will treasure forever. Once the photographers left, we circled around and dedicated Mark Allen back to Jesus. Beautiful words of thankfulness, grace, and love were prayed. His life started and ended in the womb with God's hand surrounding him.
He received a lot of cuddling and kisses from everyone. We took lots of pictures. I had brought quite a few things in to capture Mark's perfect hands and feet on: picture mats, special paper, ceramic plaster, and our bibles. Brittany, Abby, and Kristin (aka Woodie, we played soccer and survived nursing school together at PLNU. She works at the hospital and was able to join us during this special time) spent two hours and a lot of energy getting all the handprints and footprints. It was quite a task, but I am so appreciative.
Around 5:30pm all the family decided to leave for the day and give Rob and I some time alone. It was just the three of us. We were our own family. We were complete. The floodgates of tears poured out of us as we held our son and each other. I could not stop saying how sorry, how very sorry, I was to our perfect little Mark Allen. I wish that I could have given up anything to have protected him and to have him here. We told him that we love him so so much! We kissed him and once again examined his perfect little body. After physical and emotional exhaustion, I finally fell asleep with our son in my arms. It was so special. After a couple of hours, Rob got to hold him and sleep with Mark in his arms. Around midnight we woke up and knew the time was coming that we needed to give up our son's body for his soul was already in heaven. We took more photos and showered him with kisses. We bathed him as we wept and sung Jesus Loves Me. We put his cap on, wrapped him tightly up in a blanket and placed a tiny stuffed dog in his arms. It fit just right. I did not know if I would have the strength to give him up but by God's provision I had a peace that I could only attribute to the Lord. The nurse came and took him at 1:26am....we had twelve wonderful hours with him. We will always love you Mark! We will never forgot you! We cannot wait to tell your brothers and sisters about their big brother Mark!
By 4:45pm, I was admitted to Scripps Memorial in La Jolla. They immediately began to monitor my contractions, started an IV, and drew labs. I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes but my dilation was the same. The pain was tolerable and it was just more that I was uncomfortable. In fact, it was the same pain I had been feeling since I was 16 weeks with my "cramping" which the doctor informed me must have been contractions all along. Then the waiting game began. The doctor told me that they could immediately start an epidural and the pitocin in order to move labor along but I did not want to yet. I wanted to wait for family to arrive first.
My sister, Abby, was already here. She had flown down on the 10th in order to keep me company and I felt so blessed to have her by my side for everything. My Mom took the last flight out of Oakland and landed at 10:00pm. Rob's grandparents live in San Diego and they were ready at a moments notice. My dear friend Brittany (we met in nursing school), came down after working a long 12 hour shift, then had to drive a couple of hours and arrived at 11:00pm. My Dad, Allen, and Teddy drove all night after dropping my mom off at the airport and got here around 3:30am. That was all the family that was coming although my brother Bobby, Rob's Mom, and his sister, Jamie, were deeply missed...It was time to begin.
At 4:30am, the anesthesiologist came and started my epidural. After about 15 minutes, the numbness and pain control started to kick in. The nurse started my pitocin drip to help my contractions get stronger and for my dilation to progress. Once the doctor and nurse left the room and it was just Rob and I, I realized that I will never feel our sweet little boy kick again. The tears were rolling down my face and then by God's sweet mercy, I felt one last kick. It was precious and it was as if Mark was telling me, "It's okay Mommy."
The intensity and frequency of my contractions did increase, but for the most part I was very comfortable and able to rest. At 10:00am, the doctor came in and checked my progression. I was 4 cm dilated. She broke my water in order to speed things up. The doctors were not lying when the said I had a lot of amniotic fluid. It was a ton. It sounded like someone had turned a 2-liter soda bottle over and was pouring it out. My pregnant belly vanished right away. The time was approaching. By 12:00pm, I was still at 4cm so they turned up the pitocin. Due to the fact that I was only 24 weeks pregnant and Mark was going to be so small, I only had to get to 5 cm in order to deliver. One hour later, the time had come...
After five sets of pushing, our little boy was here...1:26pm...he did not survive the birth. He was already in Jesus' arms. He was meeting his Grandpa Mark, all his great-grandparents, his second cousin, and so many other loved ones. Rob and I picture him just running around with his brother and that they are laughing, sweet little laughs, with all the adults surrounding them with huge smiles. He is in a better place....
When the doctor placed him on my chest, all I could say was "Hello, Handsome. We love you!" Despite his many bodily abnormalities, he was perfect. I have never seen anything that was more beautiful and that I love more...He was very small, 14 oz and 9 1/2 inches long. He had the cutest arms and legs. They were an exact replica of Rob's except for maybe his calves those might have been mine :). I just kept looking at Rob's hands and looking at Mark's and marveling how much they looked the same. In comparision to his size, he had a long torso and big hands and feet just like his Daddy. Like Father, Like Son.
Once we got him cleaned up and put a cute little cap on him, we brought the family in to see the most precious little boy. Everyone had smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, an organization of professional photographers who volunteer their time for fatal prenatal diagnosis, came in and captured a few minutes of all of us holding Mark and loving him. I am so grateful that they were able to come in and I cannot wait to see the pictures that I will treasure forever. Once the photographers left, we circled around and dedicated Mark Allen back to Jesus. Beautiful words of thankfulness, grace, and love were prayed. His life started and ended in the womb with God's hand surrounding him.
He received a lot of cuddling and kisses from everyone. We took lots of pictures. I had brought quite a few things in to capture Mark's perfect hands and feet on: picture mats, special paper, ceramic plaster, and our bibles. Brittany, Abby, and Kristin (aka Woodie, we played soccer and survived nursing school together at PLNU. She works at the hospital and was able to join us during this special time) spent two hours and a lot of energy getting all the handprints and footprints. It was quite a task, but I am so appreciative.
Around 5:30pm all the family decided to leave for the day and give Rob and I some time alone. It was just the three of us. We were our own family. We were complete. The floodgates of tears poured out of us as we held our son and each other. I could not stop saying how sorry, how very sorry, I was to our perfect little Mark Allen. I wish that I could have given up anything to have protected him and to have him here. We told him that we love him so so much! We kissed him and once again examined his perfect little body. After physical and emotional exhaustion, I finally fell asleep with our son in my arms. It was so special. After a couple of hours, Rob got to hold him and sleep with Mark in his arms. Around midnight we woke up and knew the time was coming that we needed to give up our son's body for his soul was already in heaven. We took more photos and showered him with kisses. We bathed him as we wept and sung Jesus Loves Me. We put his cap on, wrapped him tightly up in a blanket and placed a tiny stuffed dog in his arms. It fit just right. I did not know if I would have the strength to give him up but by God's provision I had a peace that I could only attribute to the Lord. The nurse came and took him at 1:26am....we had twelve wonderful hours with him. We will always love you Mark! We will never forgot you! We cannot wait to tell your brothers and sisters about their big brother Mark!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Mark Allen Morgan Almost Here
So we are sitting in the hospital trying to get some sleep before the doctor's orders of an epidural around 3am and pitocin around 4am to induce labor. Thankfully, Jess hasn't been in much pain so far: 2 on a level of 1-10 (I am practicing my new nursing lingo). We have been resting in a deep peace for most of the night through the tears, laughter, and one too many phone calls. It is eerily quiet as we seem to be hovering in the eye of the storm after the flurry of activity today.
While everything is happening much quicker than expected, sitting in this moment it feels as if God's timing is perfect. I don't think I have ever felt his presence so real, my confidence so strong knowing how deeply he is loving us this very moment. I can only attribute this to all of you who have been journeying with us, praying beside us, and loving us through the hurt. We are nervous as to what is to come in the next few hours, but also excited to meet our son in person for the very first time.
We have decided to name him Mark Allen Morgan II. We had always planned to name our firstborn son after my father to honor his memory in a new generation. On finding out the news we wondered if we should give him a different name, but Mark seemed to be right. Then when my grandmother shared with us the vision she had of her son Mark Allen Morgan holding a baby in his arms in heaven in front of God we knew. Today my dad will become a grandfather, I will become a father, and God will gain another precious child all worshipping the name of his Son, Christ, until the end of time...
While everything is happening much quicker than expected, sitting in this moment it feels as if God's timing is perfect. I don't think I have ever felt his presence so real, my confidence so strong knowing how deeply he is loving us this very moment. I can only attribute this to all of you who have been journeying with us, praying beside us, and loving us through the hurt. We are nervous as to what is to come in the next few hours, but also excited to meet our son in person for the very first time.
We have decided to name him Mark Allen Morgan II. We had always planned to name our firstborn son after my father to honor his memory in a new generation. On finding out the news we wondered if we should give him a different name, but Mark seemed to be right. Then when my grandmother shared with us the vision she had of her son Mark Allen Morgan holding a baby in his arms in heaven in front of God we knew. Today my dad will become a grandfather, I will become a father, and God will gain another precious child all worshipping the name of his Son, Christ, until the end of time...
Friday, January 8, 2010
More Complications....
On January 5th we went to see the perinatologist and received more difficult news....I have been diagnosed with polyhydramnios which is an increased amount of amniotic fluid. I knew that this was a possibility in the pregnancy due to an anencephalic babies not being able to swallow. The fluid is causing complications because it is pushing on my cervix and making it become thin. The doctor said that I will likely go into labor within the next couple of weeks and that he would be surprised if I was still pregnant in a month.
The news for me is just another heartbreak and brought a fresh fountain of tears. I found myself again starring into a mountainous feeling of inadequacy....I cannot even keep our son safe inside me. My hope to carry to term and have even just a few hours with him alive was shattered. The reality is that we can confidently say that we have tried all that we can to protect this life for as long as God will allow. These past 23 weeks have been a blessing for me. Despite the horrible morning sickness and discomfort of a growing belly, I have felt his life inside of me. I am a Mommy and no one can take that from me. We have been blessed with two sons that will be waiting for us in heaven to hold them and tell them that We love them more than words can describe.
Please pray that as I anxiously wait for labor to come that I will have peace. Pray that despite the tragedy of losing our son that we will have strength to celebrate his life and the miracle that he is. Pray that we can be a witness to our doctors and nurses that we serve a faithful God who is present even in the midst of utter darkness.
"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11....I do not know why this is happening or why we were chosen but I know that God is in control and good will come from this situation.
The news for me is just another heartbreak and brought a fresh fountain of tears. I found myself again starring into a mountainous feeling of inadequacy....I cannot even keep our son safe inside me. My hope to carry to term and have even just a few hours with him alive was shattered. The reality is that we can confidently say that we have tried all that we can to protect this life for as long as God will allow. These past 23 weeks have been a blessing for me. Despite the horrible morning sickness and discomfort of a growing belly, I have felt his life inside of me. I am a Mommy and no one can take that from me. We have been blessed with two sons that will be waiting for us in heaven to hold them and tell them that We love them more than words can describe.
Please pray that as I anxiously wait for labor to come that I will have peace. Pray that despite the tragedy of losing our son that we will have strength to celebrate his life and the miracle that he is. Pray that we can be a witness to our doctors and nurses that we serve a faithful God who is present even in the midst of utter darkness.
"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11....I do not know why this is happening or why we were chosen but I know that God is in control and good will come from this situation.
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