Our sweet angel Olivia was born still on February 19th, 2019. Our story is not an easy one to tell, but I know that sharing it has helped me heal and has helped keep the memory of our sweet baby girl alive.
Sunday night: It had been a few days since I had felt her kick. There were still movements going on, but they weren’t the same. I had felt distinct hard kicks…but not since Friday. I didn’t want to go into the ER. I thought to myself, “people have situations like this all the time. Everything is usually okay. I’ll just call into my doctors office on Monday and see what they have to say.”
Monday morning I called the office first thing. The nurse suggested drinking orange juice and laying on my side. I had already tried that the night before…nothing. She put me on hold for a minute and then said, “We have a nurse here doing some stress tests. Can you come in right now?” I said, “Uhhh yeah, I’ll be there soon.” Right after that I got ready and called Cole to see if he was on his way home from the gym yet. He was home shortly after and we arrived at the doctor’s office around 9:45. They checked us in and we were sent to a room that had a big, comfy reclining chair. The nurse put the ultrasound doppler on my stomach and began to move it around. Static noise filled the room but no heartbeat sound. Usually our Doctor could find it pretty quickly. She pushed around on my tummy for a few more minutes until she decided to go grab another nurse. Thoughts crossed my mind about something being wrong, but the panic hadn’t sunk in yet. The second nurse came in and did the same thing. She pushed around on my stomach for a few minutes and then said, “I’m going to go get the actual ultrasound technician. She knows how to use this machine.” The third nurse came in, adjusted the monitors, and tried to find the heartbeat. After about 30 seconds she said, “You know what? This computer is so old. Let’s go into the other room and we will use the nice machines. Those are way better.” We got up and started to walk out of the room. She said, “Just have a seat right out in the hallway and I’ll come grab you in a second. I’m just going to clean this stuff up.” Now looking back on it, she didn’t need to clean up. She just wanted a few seconds with the other nurses to discuss what was happening. She knew right away. The same nurse came and got us, and brought us into an ultrasound lab. I laid on the table and she got out more equipment. She started conversation with us again, asking us about our doctor while doing some measurements on the baby. A few moments later she said, “Okay, I’m going to go grab the doctor. But you should know, there isn’t a heartbeat. I just didn’t want you sitting here waiting.” I looked at her and said, “There isn’t?!” and I just broke down. I rolled over to Cole and cried my heart out. I didn’t and still don’t understand. I even asked her, “Do things like this happen this far along?!” She said, “Not usually. It’s very uncommon.” She rubbed my back for a second and then left the room to go get the doctor. I cried and cried for the next few minutes.
The Doctor came in and put his arms around Cole and I. I continued to cry and ask, “Are you sure you’re not wrong? Could there be a mistake?” He checked over the images again and confirmed that it was true. No more heartbeat. Her little heart wasn’t moving anymore. He let me cry for a few more minutes and then started to talk about what we needed to do. He said, “Most people just want to get it over with. It’s up to you. You can go home and think about it for a little bit, or we can send you over to the hospital to start things.” I asked him if he would be able to deliver her and he said, “I’m on call right now, so it would have to be today.” Before leaving us to have a minute to think, they moved us to a different room to think everything over. The nurse hugged me on my way out and said, “I’m so sorry.” I just cried and said, “It’s okay.” (I have no clue why I said that. I think it was just the first thing that came to my mind.) Then she said, “No it’s not. It’s just fine to not be okay.” We walked over to the new little office. One nurse saw me coming to the room and sweetly said, “Do you want some water?” I said between sobbs, “Um, yeah. That would be great. Thank you.” She brought it to me and closed the door.
In that tiny little room, Cole and I cried together. Cole texted a few of our friends, one being a friend who was planning my baby shower; “Hey, can you hold off for a little bit on sending out the invitations? We had something come up and we just need to wait a little bit.” Then we talked about our options. I didn’t want to do anything. I wanted to go home and go to sleep. I had hopes that they were wrong and that I could come in the next day and they would find her heartbeat. Cole suggested that we go to the hospital and proceed with everything. I had no idea what to do. I called my mom. Kyle (my youngest brother) answered the phone. I had a super shaky voice and said, “Kyle, I need to talk to mom.” He got her right away. When she answered I said, “Mom? Am I on speaker phone? I need you to take me off speaker phone.” She said, “What’s wrong?” I said, “I’m at the doctors and they can’t find a heartbeat.” I don’t even really remember what the rest of the conversation was like. I just remember her being just as sad as I was. She said, “What? Honey, I’m so sorry.” She asked me a few questions and then I said, “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” She said that I needed to go and deliver her as soon as I could. I hung up the phone because our Doctor had come back into the room. I said that I guess we were going to go to the hospital and get things started. Cole and I decided to run home to pack.
I walked out of the office with a red, teary eyed face. I didn’t want the other mothers to see me, so I tried to walk fast and hide my face. When we got to the truck I continued to cry. We drove home and Cole called his dad. Cole broke down in tears and told his dad what was going on. When we got home, I laid on our bedroom floor and cried. I cried on Maci (our dog) and I packed my suitcase. Cole hopped in the shower quickly. I called Connor (my brother); he hadn’t heard what had happened yet. He sounded heartbroken. I said, “I need you to come get Maci when you’re off work. Can she stay at your house tonight?” Of course he said yes. Next Ashley (my sister) called me. She was a mess. We cried on the phone together for a minute and ended it with “I love you.” Cole got out of the shower and was able to contact his mom to tell her the news. She was devastated as well…Everybody was. We locked Maci in her kennel and got in the truck to head to the hospital.
The drive to the hospital was terrible. Who wants to make that drive? I cried the whole way there. I was holding my baby inside of me, knowing that she had passed. Every thought that came to my mind was about how I was going to have to give birth to my unliving child. I know Cole wanted to cry too, but he was just being strong. On the way to the hospital we decided to stop at the store and buy something for our baby. We picked out the cutest white swaddle with pink flowers and a tiny little pink bow to match. As we got to the cash register to pay for everything I broke down in tears again. This was the only thing I was ever going to purchase for my baby…and she was going to be buried in it. I knew the cashier was wondering why I was crying, but she didn’t ask or say anything. Cole put his hand on my shoulder to comfort me as we walked to the car in silence.
We got to the hospital and checked into labor and delivery. Our room was huge. When we got there, our first nurse, Erica, greeted us and had me change into a hospital gown. Cole and I discussed for a minute that I wasn’t ready for visitors. We were both so emotionally unstable. I got ready and laid on the bed. The nurse came back in and started checking my vitals/entering all our information into the computer. She expressed how sorry she was and told us that she was praying for us. Next she started hooking me up to all the machines. She drew at least 8 vials of blood and got me ready for an IV. She started to explain that since our baby was probably small, I wouldn’t necessarily need to dilate all the way. I may only need to dilate to a 4 or a 5 for the baby to be ready to come. She suggested that I get the epidural sooner than later, so that if labor went really quickly, I wouldn’t be in pain. I decided that was a good idea and told her I was ready for the epidural.
Cole’s phone rang and it was Connor. He was at the hospital and wanted to know what room we were in. He didn’t want to stay long, he just wanted to drop off a gift. I guess my parents had contacted him and discussed that he would go buy a little outfit for the baby since we literally had nothing for her yet.
The anesthesiologist came in and got my back all prepped for the epidural. Cole stood in front of me and held my arms. I buried my head in his chest. The doctor and nurse started to tell funny stories to distract me from the pain. The numbing shot was a pretty quick zing of pain. After I was numb, the doctor used a needle to thread a catheter into my spine. Every once in a while I would feel sharp pain shoot in my lower back. I gripped Cole so tight. I knew it would be over soon. Finally he was done. I was sweaty and nervous, but it wasn’t too bad…more pain was to come. I started to feel nauseous and asked the doctor if it was normal to feel that way. I immediately started throwing up. I guess my blood pressure had dropped. They started putting effederant in through my IV and that worked pretty quickly to help me feel normal again. The nurse gave me a wet rag to place on my head. As soon as I was stable again everything was good. The anesthesiologist left.
My epidural started to kick in but only one of my legs was numb. It was such a weird feeling. I felt like my belly and thighs were completely swollen. I could still feel small contractions. My belly would get tighter and felt like it was swelling up at times. Nothing was painful though yet. I started to get hungry, but the nurse told me that I couldn’t eat anything until after I delivered.
Around 6 pm I got a new nurse, Lacie. She was super nice and helpful. I feel the worst for her because she had to take care of all the gross stuff. She saw me throw up multiple times. Throughout the night, our Doctor came in to check how far I had dilated. I stayed around a 2 and a 3 for most of the night. Then he decided to break my water. That HURT! The night drug on and the hours went by super slowly. Cole and I both tried to rest a little bit and I watched the bachelor in between my crying episodes. The nurse said I could drink some slushies or eat popsicles. Cole got me a strawberry kiwi slush that I immediately threw up.
Around 9 pm my mom called and said she was there. She started her 9 hour drive from Washington as soon as I had called her early that morning. Cole went out the lobby to meet her and I started throwing up again. My mom, Cole, and the nurse all walked in at the same time…as I was throwing up. The nurse said that it could be a sign of labor. We all got comfortable and tried to sleep, but most of the night I was awake and uncomfortable. The epidural was acting weird. Only my right leg seemed to be numb. I could still move everything. The nurse said that I could try laying on my other side to see if that would help. It helped a little bit and I ended up dozing off.
When I woke up, it was about 2:30 am. I could feel some painful contractions that were lower in my pelvis. I called Laci in to let her know. At that time, I was feeling more pain, so I started to push the epidural button more to block the pain. Every time I hit the button, I threw up. I started getting hot and anxious. Lacie checked me again, and said that the baby was crowning. I could definitely feel it. Everything stung so bad! I tried blocking the pain more but the nausea didn’t leave. They gave me a cold towel to put on my head. A few more nurses started coming in the room, and I knew that the time was coming close. By this time, I was in a lot of pain. Cole and my mom were up now, standing at the side of my bed. Cole grabbed the cafeteria menu to fan me. I was extremely hot. A few minutes later, one of the other nurses grabbed a fan that Cole continued to hold over my head.
Lacie basically directed everything. She sat at the edge of the bed and comforted me the whole time. The contractions were getting stronger and more painful. It got pretty chaotic for a little bit as I was screaming in pain. A different anesthesiologist came in and rushed to give me another dose of pain medication. It never wore on. I kept looking to my mom and she would give me the nod that everything was progressing. Lacie and another nurse held my legs and told me I could push whenever I felt the urge. I pushed 4 or 5 times, basically whenever I could feel a heavy contraction. The nurses were trying to delay because our Doctor wasn’t there yet. He was rushing from another hospital and they told me he was close. After a few more minutes, a new doctor came in. He suited up, put on a mask, and they turned on the big, bright lights above me. They laid some towels underneath me and prepared a table in the back of the room. I pushed one more time and felt a huge relief from physical pain as the doctor pulled her out. No crying. The room was silent. I immediately started crying. She was gone. I didn’t get any skin to skin. I didn’t get any newborn cuddles. This was supposed to be the most exciting day of my life, and it couldn’t have been more opposite from that. The nurse brought her to the back of the room and began to clean her up.
The nurse brought over a little plastic tub that held my baby inside. She was all swaddled up in a little blanket. Her face was the most perfect thing I have ever seen. Her head was a little elongated from coming out of the birth canal, but the most precious blonde curls covered her scalp. Her skin was purple and puffy. Her lips were dark red. Her nose was mine! An exact replica. Her eyes stayed shut. Her face was round and chubby. Her fuzzy long little arms were attached to the most perfect little hands. Her tiny fingers were lifeless, but were the most precious things I have ever seen. Her fingernails were absolutely perfect. Her belly was plump and her little legs were so stinkin’ cute. Her toes! I could look at those toes for hours. Her fragile feet curled up to her legs. I don’t understand how a perfect body didn’t hold a life. Cole swaddled her and we decided on her name. Olivia April Morley. Born at 5:15 am. 2 pounds, 6 ounces. 15 inches long. Literally, too perfect for earth.
Our Doctor then came in and expressed how sorry he was that he didn’t make it. He was about 15 minutes late. He asked to hold her. We passed Olivia over to him and he unwrapped her tiny body. He went over every inch. Every part was there. Everything was perfect. We talked with him for a while. He hugged us and comforted us with stories about the plan of salvation.
We decided to take some rest. The nurse brought in a cold cot for Olivia to sleep in. A family who had experienced a similar loss years ago had donated the bed to the hospital. Babies who are born still start to deteriorate very quickly, so having a cold bed helps preserve their bodies longer. Olivia laid in our room while we slept for a little bit. During that time, I got another new nurse, Katelyn.
I woke up around 9 am in a little bit of a panic. Lots of Coles family wanted to come visit but I still wasn’t ready for it. I knew our time was running short. I held my baby close. I knew that this would probably be the only time that people would be able to see her. I didn’t want to rob our family of that memory, so I decided to tell Cole that he could invite people to visit.
After visitors had left, we cuddled Olivia for the rest of the day. I just wanted to keep her close. People and nurses came in all day asking if we had made a decision on a mortuary or a funeral home yet. I told them I wanted to wait until the very last minute. I wanted to keep her for as long as possible, but her little body was deteriorating so much. Her skin was peeling, and I knew that the mortuary could preserve her much better than the hospital could. We decided on a mortuary and arranged for them to pick her up at 8:00 pm.
The time came where we swaddled her and wrapped her up for the last time there in the hospital. I leaned over her bed and kissed her repetitively, telling her I loved her over and over and over again. My nurse Heidi stood behind me and rubbed my back while we both just stared at Olivia. She cried too. I lifted Olivia out of her bed and kissed her once again. The mortuary worker pushed her little cart out of our room, and walked her down the hallway. My heart sank as I had just said the hardest goodbye.
We packed up all our stuff. I couldn’t bear to be in the hospital anymore without my baby. They confirmed that I could be discharged, and we drove home. Random roads drove us right past the mortuary. I broke down in tears. The lights were on, at 9 pm at night, and I knew that’s where my baby was. I don’t even remember what coming home was like…all I know is that I didn’t have my baby.
Our next job was to go visit the cemetary. One of Cole’s family members had donated a plot to us in Salt Lake next to a distant relative. We drove down to Salt Lake, and I didn’t even get out of the car. I hated it. I knew I would never live in Salt Lake. I hate Salt Lake. It would take me 45 minutes to get there and that’s without traffic. I knew this wasn’t the place. Somebody had previously told us about an infant cemetery in Lehi. We decided to go check it out.
I fell in LOVE with babyland. It was perfect. There was such a spiritual feeling when we got there. I didn’t feel like Olivia would be alone there. She would be with all the other babies. This was the place. It was perfect. We bought her a space and set up funeral arrangements for Saturday, February 23rd at 1:00.
Our next job was to pick out her casket. This job was something that NO parent should ever have to do. The mortuary was very respectful of us. They explained everything in simple terms and let us have our time with everything. The worker took us to a room where the infant caskets were. In the middle shelf there was a perfect, little white casket. It had Daisy’s carved on the top. It was perfect, and Cole and I knew it. That was the one.
Before we left, I asked if we could see Olivia again. The worker went to grab her, and left her on a table in a room where we could spend some time with her. Cole and I held her and cried some more. She was so perfect. Her skin looked even better than when she had left the hospital. She was so cold. We unswaddled her and took another look and her tiny hands and body. Blood had soaked through her little hospital gown. We swaddled her up good one last time, and decided that this was how she was going to be buried. Her little body was just too fragile to touch anymore. We kissed her again and again, wiped the blood from her eyes and nose, and said goodbye once more. I cried the whole way home. The tears are never ending.
Saturday was the funeral. We didn’t invite too many people. I felt like it was too traumatic to invite people to a baby’s funeral. Cole and I left a little earlier than everybody else did. We wanted to have some last minute time with our baby. On the way there, my chest ached with pain. My milk had come in, and I was so swollen and engorged. It felt like I had giant rocks strapped to my chest. We pulled up to the cemetery and met a blue minivan that transported our baby girl. The cemetary was set up with a few chairs, a table, and a box to put her casket on. It was freezing outside. I’m glad I brought my coat. I texted my mom and told her to bring a few blankets. A man stepped out of the van and greeted us. He said he would get Olivia for us. He opened the back of the van and there was her perfect, tiny casket. He brought it over to the box for us, set it down, and let us have our time with her. I picked her up and cradled her. I cried, kissed her face, and held her as close as I could. I wasn’t ready to let her go. Cole held her as well. I just couldn’t believe that this is what we were doing…burying our baby. People started to show up. I wanted to fall on the ground and sob uncontrollably; but I didn’t. I kissed her one last time and told Cole I was ready, although I knew in my heart that I wasn’t. We placed her in her casket and set her on top of the box with the lid open. I pulled her swaddle up over her face a little but because it was so cold outside. I just wanted to bundle her up and pull her to me.
My family arrived and immediately I broke down again. This would be the first time that my family had seen her in person. My dad gave me the biggest hug and the tears poured down my face. I could hear him sobbing as well. Lots of people came to give me hugs and each time, my chest ached. Each hug felt like a punch. I was in so much physical pain. We decided it was time to start the program. My dad dedicated the grave with a perfect prayer. I read a letter I wrote her and then it was time for the real final goodbye. We sealed up her casket and then the cemetery workers pulled up to the site in a little cart with dirt in the bed. They handed us some shovels and gave us our time. Cole held the casket and hopped inside the hole. He gently placed her down and kissed the lid. He stepped out and we all threw roses down in the hole. Cole grabbed a shovel, and tossed the first scoop of dirt over the top of the casket. The shovels were passed around to all the men and they lightly tossed in dirt to fill the grave. Once the hole was filled, the cemetery worker placed a piece of sod on top and put a marker in the grass with Olivia’s name and birth date on it. Our friends and family hugged us again, and everybody left. Somehow I felt peace.
There are no answers as to why we lost her. I whole-heartedly believe she was just too perfect for Earth. I’ve relied a lot in my faith knowing that Olivia is free from harm. She will never be hurt. She is perfect and she is safe.
To others who have lost a loved one, take all the time you need to grieve. Your feelings are so valid. Even your craziest thoughts have been thought of by others in a similar situation. You have every right to feel everything you are feeling. It’s hard feeling like you’re the only one who remembers your child, so I love when others bring her up. Talking about her is very therapeutic; I love it! Sharing our story has connected me with so many others who have been in similar situations. I have gained lifelong friends through our experience. Although I would never wish this experience upon anybody, I’m grateful for our perfect little angel who has blessed our lives forever.