"When a soul recognises the will of God and shows a readiness to submit to it entirely, then God gives Himself to such a soul and renders it most powerful succour under all circumstances." - Rev. Jean-Pierre de Caussade

Levi's Story

Originally written in 2010, posted on Into Your Will in October 2013.

Logan and I got married in June 2009 and found out we were pregnant in August! That December, we found out we were having a boy and decided his name would be Levi Anthony. We were so excited! Here is his story - the reason we created this blog. It was a traumatic experience for us and it involves blood, pain, and tears. So, it may be difficult to read! Just want you to prepare yourself :)

Three days after Christmas, I was 22 weeks pregnant. We had a few friends over that night, and while everyone was over, I began to feel like I was having menstrual cramps. I had done some painting earlier in the day, so I thought maybe my body was just recovering from a rather active day. I went to sleep hoping it would subside after I rested. I had talked to Logan about it, and he agreed that I just needed to sleep. We got into bed around 11:30 p.m., and for the next hour, cramps kept waking me up. Since I know that true contractions come in regular intervals, I started to take note of the time when I woke up from the cramps. It didn’t take long to notice that each moment of pain was pretty close to the previous one. Being a nurse, I started to feel that things just weren’t right. But, I tried to convince myself that I was just making a big deal out of nothing – it very well could have been Braxton-Hicks contractions, which are completely normal. Plus, it was late and my next doctor’s appointment was actually that following morning, so I decided to just wait until then to seek medical attention.

At 12:30 a.m., it felt like my pants were wet, so I went to the bathroom to check it out. Logan woke up as I was walking across the room to the bathroom, and he asked, “Are you okay?” Being honest, I replied simply, “No.” The cramping had not gotten any better, and I still hadn’t fallen asleep, so I guess you could say I was a bit grouchy about it. I reached the toilet and when I looked down, my heart skipped a beat – there was blood. “Logan!” I called out frantically. “I’m bleeding…” Logan brought me my cell phone so I could call my doctor’s answering service. As I waited for the receptionist to connect me to the on-call doctor, I realized my legs were shaking, even though I was sitting down. No matter how much I tried to calm myself, my legs kept shaking. Up until that night, my pregnancy was going perfectly. In fact, my doctor had said at my last appointment that things were “looking hunky dory”. I was thrown off by this sudden cramping and bleeding, and despite my nursing school background, I had no idea what could have been happening.

After a very long minute, the on-call doctor, Dr. S, picked up. I explained what was going on, and she asked, “Do you feel the baby moving?” My body relaxed a little as I realized I had indeed felt Levi kicking as I had walked to the bathroom a few minutes before. Dr. S told me to just get off my feet and drink some water, but that if the bleeding increased or the cramping got worse, to go to the hospital. I felt a little better, but still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Right after I hung up with her, Logan brought me some water to drink. I tried to lie down after a few sips but couldn’t because the pain suddenly got worse. I didn’t understand what was going on. Was I in labor? Had I been having contractions the past few hours and never realized it? The questions kept popping up in my head. Logan asked me if I thought we should go to the hospital. “I don’t know” was my response. I went to the bathroom again to see if the bleeding had decreased, but it had also gotten worse. We immediately decided to go to the hospital.

I quickly put on some pants in place of my pajamas and grabbed a jacket and my purse. Logan quickly changed as well, and then we were out the door. As Logan was locking the front door, I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. I told Logan weakly, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” He rushed back inside to get some plastic bags in case I threw up in the car. Without warning, I threw up right there in our front yard.

From then on, it was like a bad dream. The nausea seemed to disappear, but the pain seemed to increase. It would come and go, just like contractions, and as much as I tried to relax and breathe through them, things just didn’t get better. It felt like the longest ride to the hospital, despite there being no traffic at almost 1:00 in the morning. Every time I would start moaning in pain, Logan would speed up. We pulled up to the hospital, parked, tried to walk as quickly as possible inside (I think I had to stop once when I felt a surge of pain), and took the elevator to the emergency room. There were only 2 or 3 people sitting in the waiting room, but we didn’t have to wait. The triage nurse asked a couple of questions, and then picked up the phone to call the Labor and Delivery Unit. Another employee then came in with a wheelchair, and we immediately went upstairs to L & D.

They brought us into a room, and one nurse had several papers for me to sign and also started asking a lot of questions. I was still in pain, which made signing papers and answering questions a bit difficult. Logan helped as much as he could, to my relief. When the paperwork was done, I was given a hospital gown to change into. After changing, I got into the bed (which more of a stretcher than anything, since I wasn’t in a typical L&D room). From that point on, several nurses were in and out of my room constantly. One of the nurses checked to see if I was still bleeding and said in surprise, “Oh! You are bleeding.” They called the on-call doctor and several tests and procedures were ordered. Two nurses tried to draw blood and start an IV, and it took two attempts. While they were in the process of sticking me with a needle, another contraction (as I will call them) began. I started moaning, and it took some effort to not move around and mess up the nurses’ attempts. They apologized for the needle sticks, and I tried to explain that it wasn’t the needle that hurt – it was my uterus. One of the nurses felt my stomach and commented that it was really hard. They weren’t picking up contractions on the monitor, but it was obvious that I was in pain and that it was due to my tense uterus. The blood was drawn, an IV was started, and they hung a bag of fluids.

The ultrasound tech rolled in the ultrasound machine, since it was one of the procedures ordered. I was lying on my left side, since it was the least painful position to be in, but the tech asked me to lie on my back for the ultrasound. I reluctantly agreed. As she was rolling the transducer over my abdomen, another contraction started. I started moaning yet again and tried not to squirm around so she could get an accurate picture on the ultrasound. The tech asked me to lie on my left side for a minute. I heard Levi’s heartbeat, strong and rapid. The tech then asked me to lie on my back again. As soon as I moved, the heartbeat changed drastically. Quickly, the ultrasound tech instructed me to lie back on my left side and to stay that way. She had a sense of urgency in her voice that I knew was not a good sign. I also knew that Levi was not handling the contractions well, and I wondered how this was all going to end. I just didn’t want to think about it.

After what seemed like forever, the nurses finally gave me some pain medicine. It did help some, but there were still several contractions that were so painful that I all I could do was lay there and moan. The medicine kind of made me out of it, so from then on, I just remember bits and pieces of everything. It was a very long night and morning. Between periods of pain, I would fall asleep, and then I’d wake up moaning. I remember just wanting everything to be over with.

The ultrasound showed that I was dilated and that the membranes (water bag) were bulging through my cervix, so I was on strict bedrest. The nurses also put my bed in Trendelenburg position – with my feet higher than my head. They did not want any pressure on the membranes, for fear that they would rupture prematurely. I remember one of the nurses at one point giving me medicine to stop the contractions, but it didn’t seem to help. I also remember asking later why the contractions weren’t stopping, but I don’t think the nurses ever gave me an answer. Or maybe I just don’t remember. It’s like moments of that night are blocked out – either thanks to the pain medicine or to the pain itself.

When one of the nurses came in to give me more pain medicine, I asked, “How long am I going to have to stay in the hospital?” Since it didn’t seem like things were getting any better, I didn’t know what to expect. The nurse didn’t beat around the bush – “Until the baby is delivered most likely. Maybe until you’re 30-something weeks along.” I couldn’t believe it. Everything was going so perfectly with my pregnancy, and now it seemed like I’d spend the next few months in the hospital. What was I going to do all day? What about my job? Never did I think that there’d be a more horrible outcome than being stuck in a hospital for the remainder of the pregnancy.

I’m not sure at what time it happened, but Logan had left the room to call his dad, and the nurses weren’t in there either. I had the worst contraction ever and remember yelling because it hurt so badly. Then suddenly, I felt a gush of water. The bed was on an incline (feet up, head down), so the water burst upward and then ran back down all the way to my head. It was awful. I was in pain and soaking wet, and the lights were off, so I was in almost complete darkness. I didn’t have the call light by me and couldn’t find it due to the darkness (remember, it was not a normal L&D room, so there wasn't one attached to the stretcher bed). All I could do was to yell for help. I called out a few times and realized that I would really have to yell for someone to hear me. So I started yelling. I felt silly - trust me, I am NOT a yeller - but I did not want to lie there in wet sheets. Plus, I knew that my water breaking was not good at all, because that can cause the baby to come. After yelling for a few minutes, it seemed like forever until Logan and the nurses all came rushing in. All I said was, “I think my water broke…” The nurses looked at me in surprise, and I quickly added that maybe I just used the bathroom on myself (silly, I know, but you’ve got to remember, pain medicine was involved). One of the nurses verified that my water did indeed break, and they cleaned me up and got a new gown for me.

Since Logan had already called both of our parents, he asked if I wanted him to call my sister-in-law. She and my brother live near us, so I nodded my head. At this point, we knew things had taken a huge turn for the worst. And even though it was the middle of the night, we wanted our family to know what was going on.

The on-call doctor came in the room and explained that she did not want me moving at all, so the nurses were going to put a catheter in me. The doctor also explained that I might deliver the baby during one of my contractions. “The baby may slide right out without you realizing it,” she said softly. I didn’t know what to think. Would he be alive? Would anything be wrong with him? There were so many questions that I didn’t know what to say out loud. So I didn’t say anything.

Two of the nurses got ready to put a catheter in, and just as they were about to insert it, another wave of pain came upon me. I started squirming in discomfort, and the nurses patiently waited for the pain to subside until they continued with the catheter. They were finally able to put it in successfully, and it was actually a bit of relief to not have to get on a bedpan anymore.

My brother, Michael, and his wife, Lindsey, arrived at the hospital with their son Max around 5:30 a.m. Lindsey and I are really close, so I explained to her what happened, that my water broke, and how I might push the baby out any minute. Even in the dark room, I could tell she was trying not to cry. I finished my explanation saying, “And now we’re basically just waiting.” Waiting for the baby to come, waiting for my doctor to arrive, waiting for a miracle. No matter how you looked at it, we were all just waiting.

Michael, Lindsey, and Max went to the waiting room so I could get some rest. Logan’s parents live close to us as well, so they arrived at the hospital shortly after my brother. My parents live 3 hours away, and Logan informed me they would drive up after my dad took care of some things at work (they ended up staying with us the rest of the week). I was very grateful for everyone’s support. Although I usually don’t like to inconvenience people, this was one time where I really needed my family with me.

While it was just Logan and me in the darkened room, I heard the bathroom sink turn on for a second. Then, I felt Logan’s hands over my belly and heard him whisper the words, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Logan, as the head of our family, was baptizing our son. Even though I knew it needed to be done, the realization sort of hit me – it needed to be done because Levi probably wasn’t going to make it.

Sometime after the catheter was inserted, I started feeling like I need to use the bathroom. I know it didn’t make sense, because the catheter was draining my bladder. But there was no doubt that an urge to urinate was there. One of the nurses came in to check my IV, and I told her, “I feel like I need to pee.” She explained that that’s what the catheter was for, and I said, “I know, but I really feel like I need to pee.” It brought back memories of a time when I worked as a nurse in a hospital and one of my patients – who had a catheter in – kept insisting that she needed to use the bathroom. I could not make her understand that the catheter was doing that job for her. And here I was, a few months later, on the other end of the conversation. I knew I sounded crazy - just like my former patient - but I really felt like I needed to use the bathroom. The nurse just repeated herself about the catheter and left the room.

A few minutes later, I felt a huge urge to urinate. I tried to resist it, but then I realized that the catheter could be in the wrong place. Logan checked the catheter bag to see if it was empty. It wasn’t, so the catheter was indeed in the right place. So why did I keep feeling the urge to push? I decided not to fight it anymore since the urge obviously was not going away. I really didn’t expect anything to come out, but liquid came gushing out – as well as something else. I panicked, not knowing what I just pushed out. I asked Logan to check, so he pulled back the sheets. “What is it?” I asked. Logan didn’t seem to know what to say. After suggesting that it looked like blood, he said, “Uhhh…I’m going to get a nurse.” He left the room. A million thoughts rushed through my head – Did I just deliver my son? How big is he? What do I do now?

One of the nurses returned with Logan to check things out. She said it was a blood clot but didn’t say why it had happened. After cleaning me up, she left. I was still having contractions at this point, so I continued to moan in pain every so often (I don’t think Logan was able to get any sleep, poor thing).

It wasn’t too much longer until I felt another urge to push something out. So I did. This time it was bigger. Once again, I wondered if I just delivered my son. Since I wasn’t supposed to move, Logan pulled back the sheets to see. It was another blood clot. The nurses came back in to clean me up, while I lay there helplessly. I didn’t know what was going on. Why was I passing clots? Was Levi going to come out next?

I don’t remember how many times it happened (neither does Logan), but I continued to pass blood clots until my doctor arrived, sometime after 7 a.m. Dr. H stood next to the bed, looked at me, and said, “Well, this is like a bad dream, huh?” I couldn’t help but laugh, because it’s exactly what I was thinking. The nurses were in the room while he checked my cervix. I remember him checking things out and saying immediately that we had to deliver the baby. Logan told me later on that Dr. H had actually pulled down one of Levi’s little feet. So naturally, an immediate delivery was necessary.

I was wheeled into another room where there were several people waiting. Since I was still having contractions, I was still moaning every few minutes (I’m sure everyone thought I was a crazy person). A lady asked me if I wanted my husband there, and I told her yes. I remember lying down and having a few nurses take off my jewelry and get me ready to push. They didn’t let Logan come in after all (we’re both still mad about that), so one of the nurses squeezed my hands as Dr. H encouraged me to push. Levi’s legs and bottom half came out, so they prepared me to push a second time. One of the nurses counted to 3, and I pushed again. I heard a popping sensation and knew Levi’s head was out.

It was 7:37 a.m. After a second, Dr. H announced, “There’s no heartbeat.” I broke down and started crying. He handed Levi’s body over to a couple of nurses. As Dr. H waited for the placenta to come out, I turned my head to try to see Levi, but all I could see was a nurse listening with a stethoscope, probably trying to hear a heartbeat. A minute later, Dr. H instructed to someone behind me, “Let’s put her out.” He wanted to perform a D & C to make sure the entire placenta was out. It was almost a good thing in a way, since they had to put me under anesthesia and I was no longer distraught about just losing my son. I lay there crying until I was out.

A couple hours later, I started to wake up. Everything was blurry, and I remember being back in the room where I had spent the entire night. Logan was sitting in the chair on one side of me, and a blonde woman (the day shift nurse, come to find out) was standing on the other side of the bed. After my eyes were open for a second, everything that had happened that night came back to me, and I closed my eyes again. I didn’t want to wake up and think about how my son was gone…the son I never got to meet. The anesthesia was still lingering in my system, so I let myself fall back asleep.

When I finally woke up for good, Logan and the nurse (I'll call her Jackie) were still looking at me as if they had been waiting for me to wake up. I realized I was now wearing a nasal cannula for oxygen as well as a pulse oximeter to measure my oxygen saturation. My catheter was still in and so was the IV. It felt a bit surreal to be hooked up to everything like that, since I had never been hospitalized before. My oxygen level was fine, so it didn’t take me long to take off the oxygen and pulse oximeter (I know, nurses are the worst patients). Logan’s parents, Michael, Lindsey, and Max all came in the room to see how I was doing.

I’m not sure how long it was after I woke up, but Jackie explained that we could hold Levi’s body if we wanted. There was no doubt in our mind that we wanted to see our son. As the nurse left the room to get Levi, I had all these thoughts going through my head. What was he going to look like? Would I be freaked out? Could I handle it? I knew what happened to a body once a person died, especially after a few hours, but I didn’t know what to expect with my own son’s body.

Everyone decided that Logan and I should have some time to ourselves, so they left us alone when Jackie returned with Levi. She handed him to me, wrapped up in a blanket with a cap on his head. Logan was next to me as I held my son’s body and cried. He looked like he was sleeping, and I wanted more than anything for him to just wake up, as if everything was normal. It didn’t seem real – a few hours ago I was 5 months pregnant, and now I was holding my dead son.

After Logan held Levi, I composed myself enough so our family could come back in. We took turns holding him for awhile, and Lindsey took some pictures (Thankfully I always have my camera in my purse...this was before everyone had smartphones). I was holding Levi, and Logan was next to me. It was our first (and only) family picture. I wanted to smile, and I tried to, but I just couldn’t. I remember thinking about how it wasn’t supposed to be like this – delivering a stillborn baby and taking a picture where you didn’t feel like smiling. In my head, I pictured us having a normal birth with a healthy baby in our arms. I wanted a happy family picture. But that, of course, wasn’t going to happen.

One of the hospital’s chaplains came in to say some encouraging words. She was very kind and even came back later on to offer Logan and I some advice to protect our marriage in the future. We truly appreciated it.

We let the nurse take Levi’s body away after a little while. We informed her about my parents coming, so she said she could bring his body back when they arrived. It took a couple more hours until my parents got there, so Logan brought me something to eat, and Logan’s parents brought me some new clothes.

Dr. H stopped by to see how we were doing, and he explained how he thought I had a placental abruption, due to the huge blood clot he found under the placenta. I was instructed not to do much of anything for 3 weeks, including working. Dr. H said my body would recover more quickly than my mind, which is completely true. He explained the possible causes for the abruption (including an incompetent cervix, imagine that) and said he wanted me to see the high-risk OB/GYN.

It was a lot of information to take in, but Dr. H took his time and answered all of our questions. He also said to wait about 6 months to try to conceive again. That freaked me out, because I really didn’t want to wait that long – and neither did Logan. We were supposed to have a baby in 4 months, and now we were supposed to wait 6 months to even try to get pregnant again? I asked Dr. H if it would be a bad thing to get pregnant before 6 months had passed. Since he could tell we didn’t like the idea of waiting that long, he said to wait at least 3 months, because my uterus needs time to recover. That made me feel a little bit better. He knew my parents were on their way, so he told us to visit for awhile and that he’d be back before dinner to discharge me.

My parents got to the hospital after lunch sometime – I don’t think I had ever been so glad to see them. They both hugged me, and my mom and I tearfully said how we had never expected things to end like this. Once I made it to the second trimester, we both had breathed a sigh of relief in a sense since we knew the chances of miscarrying after that was much lower. But here we were.

After a minute, I asked my parents, “Do you want to see him?” They did, of course, so we had the nurse bring us Levi’s body again. It was somewhat easier this time, but I still was just wishing he’d wake up and be a normal little baby. We looked at all of his little limbs and body parts, and pointed out whom he took after. We decided his nose, chin, and thighs were from me, while his arms and hands were from Logan. Levi really was a beautiful baby, despite not being completely matured. Logan’s mom even told us, “At least we know y’all make beautiful babies.” We only wished we could have seen him at full-term.

Dr. H came back to the room just before 6:00 p.m. to give me my prescriptions and reiterate everything from before. He also explained things again for my parents to hear. We didn’t waste any time leaving, because Logan and I were both ready to go home. Logan was going to stop on the way home to get my prescriptions filled, so I rode with my parents to our house. Jackie wheeled me to the parking garage and waited until my dad drove up. We expressed our gratitude to Jackie for everything, and she said how she hoped we’d be back next year - in better circumstances, of course. [Funny story - Jackie was actually my nurse when I had my cerclage done during my pregnancy with Landon...almost 2 years later.]

As soon as I climbed in the backseat and we drove off, it suddenly hit me that I was no longer pregnant. I wasn’t bringing home a baby boy. Levi wasn’t with me anymore. The tears came as we rode home in silence. I was thankful that it was dark outside so that nobody could see me crying and also that nobody was in a talkative mood. I didn’t want to talk. As soon as we got home, I took a shower and cried even more. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. I kept wishing I’d just wake up from a very long and terrible dream. But I didn’t, because it was all very real.


Part of the reason why I never posted Levi's Story is because I didn't want to just end it like that - we went home and I was miserable. I could never find the right words to explain just what happened in the months (and sadly, years) that followed.

The truth is - and if you've been following this blog from the beginning, you'll know this - the months that followed were hard. Hard because of losing Levi, hard because of the hospital experience, and hard because we didn't easily get pregnant again. At first, I wasn't even sure I wanted to get pregnant again, because the thought of experiencing the same thing over again was horrifying. I cried a lot, for many different reasons. It took a long time to feel like myself again. And honestly, it wasn't until Landon was in my arms 2 1/2 years later that I could really, really be at peace about everything.

It's probably obvious now why it took me years to share the details. Although it was hard for Logan and me to both reread - and in a sense, relive - this whole experience, we know without a doubt that it was all part of God's plan all along. We knew that back then, but it was hard to see when everything was so new.

"When there’s something that you want and believe in so much – trusting that God will do it – and for some reason He chooses not to give it to you, that’s when you walk by faith. You decide to still trust that God knows what He’s doing." – Jeremy Camp

So, this was our story. [I hope you aren't too traumatized!] One thing I feel passionately about is that everyone has their own story with different circumstances that make the "recovery time" a little different. Here were my circumstances:

Back then, I didn't have anyone I knew personally that had gone through a similar experience. I knew people who had miscarriages, but it wasn't the same thing. I'm not saying what I went through was harder - because I know losing a baby is hard no matter when or how it happens - but it really would have helped knowing other people went through the same thing. The physical pain, the delivery, etc.

Logan and I had been married for less than 7 months when we lost Levi. And I know now how much of a miracle it is that we are still together. Nobody expects to deal with that kind of thing, much less in the first year of marriage. And I will honestly tell you that it, along with our trying-to-conceive journey, has made a lot of things hard in our marriage - sex, to be specific. But that's a topic for another day. [Okay, honestly, I probably won't ever write about that - our parents do read this. ;)]

This one can't be helped, and I know some of my friends who have yet to conceive a child deal with the same thing, but...babies are everywhere. Pregnant bellies, ultrasound pictures, babies, kids - you just can't escape all of it. And unfortunately it can be a reminder of what you lost or don't yet have. I had several friends pregnant at the same time as me, so that meant they were still pregnant while I was not. It was definitely bittersweet, because I was happy for them...but it was hard seeing people with what I lost.

Another thing that made it hard was the fact that it was our first baby. I know if I lose another baby it will still be hard, but there's no doubt in my mind that having Landon will make it just a tad bit easier - I won't have those questions like, "Will I ever have a healthy baby?" "What if we won't have anymore biological children?"

But then I know it's also hard to lose babies when you already have children because then you have to explain it to them. I can't imagine what it'd be like to have to explain to your children that they won't get to meet their new baby brother or sister after all, because now he/she is with Jesus. I can't imagine.

I also can't imagine trying several months or years to get pregnant, only to lose that "miracle baby." Seriously, I can't imagine. I got pregnant with Levi 2 months after we got married, and that was hard enough!

I should also mention that in a way, Logan and I are blessed in the fact that we knew we were having a boy, and we did get to see him - although not in the way we expected. Women who lose babies early on don't always know if the baby was a boy or girl, and I'm assuming that only adds to the pain.

The point I'm making is that we all have our own unique story with different circumstances. That's part of the reason why that phrase "I know what you're going through" is not exactly my favorite. Yes, we may be able to relate to each other, but nobody ever knows everything a person is going through. We only know when they tell us their story....and we listen.

What's your story? I'd love to hear :)

P.S. I wrote this post (click that link) 5 years after losing our precious baby. I finally share pictures of Levi in it.


  1. Oh, I so agree with that last part. i can definitely relate to people who have had miscarriages and stillbirths at all points of pregnancy, but I do not know what they are going through. I have had two miscarriages in the past four months and they were very different from each other - I didn't even know what to expect with the second one having gone through the first. So "I know how you feel" or "I went through the same thing" - they just aren't genuine. I love talking to women who have had pregnancy loss because I can relate more to them than to other people, but still, it's not like we are exactly the same by any means. Right now, I'm really craving to speak to women that have had multiple losses because I'm having a hard time relating to women that had one and then healthy pregnancies afterward - my fears and struggles are quite different after 2 than they were after 1.

    Also, I've noticed that having a child already does make it easier in some ways and harder in others (everything Lucia does, even new moment, I am reminded of what I'll never get to experience with the babies I lost - in some ways I feel like I am more aware of what I lost). I think it would be easier still if we had two (living) children, because I have the additional worry of our child never having a sibling to grow up with.

    1. I'm so sorry for your losses! I can only imagine how much more difficult it is after having a second loss…I've kept you in my thoughts and prayers today.

      You're totally right that having a child makes it easier in some ways and harder in others. I thought everything would be better once we had one baby, but I agree - it makes you more aware of what you lost (and could lose again!). Being pregnant again, I feel more of a sense of urgency to carry to term because I really want Landon to have a sibling.

      I hope you find some women you can relate to more - that's why I love the blogging community so much! So glad we found each other's blogs!

  2. Your story is so similar to mine. My baby was born at 21 weeks, but born into eternal life, like yours. He died about 15 minutes before he came out. His story is on my blog. There are some pictures, but these were taken after he had been on dry ice.

    My second pregnancy is going well (25 weeks) but I worry about placental abruption, and how the birth will go. Did the birth of your next child go normally?

    I totally agree with the comments about being able to relate better to women who have lost babies. And how every woman's struggles are different. I just wrote a blog about my struggle with trying to tell the world that my adopted son (my first child) is every bit as much my child as my child in Heaven, and my unborn child. Thanks again for sharing!

    1. Hi, Hannah! Just clicked over and read your story. I'm so sorry for your loss! Samuel was precious. I will pray for you and Elora. After losing Levi, I've had 2 successful births - my other sons are now 3 years old and 1 year old. The pregnancies were rough but the cerclages held up and I delivered both at 38 weeks!

      The way I see it, you have 3 beautiful babies. :) Thank you for commenting and sharing!

  3. ...The blog with pictures and story about my IC experience is "Samuel and Elora".

  4. I am so sorry for the loss of your first sweet baby Levi. What a heart wrenching read... I can't even imagine living it. I am so grateful that you have since been blessed with children, but nothing will take away the pain of that loss. And for that, I'm so sorry.

    1. Thank you, Shelly! I still can't believe it happened when I go back and read it. But I've definitely learned so much from it and am also so, so grateful for my beautiful boys who are with me now.


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