Remembering Jason

Happy Birthday in Heaven my Little Jason Nephi.  

I promise you that as long as I am living your 

precious moments on earth with me will be

Remembered, Honored and Cherished.  

I Miss You!  I Love You!  You are 4 Ever Loved!

Today I am remembering my little angel baby Jason.  It has been 7 years since you departed from this life.  I have many mixed emotions that I don't know quite how to deal with or even which feeling to truly feel.  On one hand I remember all the good, but, short memories of the joy and healing my pregnancy with him brought to me and the comfort in knowing that he is in Heaven with his angel sisters.  With that emotion I can say Happy Birthday in Heaven Jason and celebrate remembering him.  But, on the other hand I feel overwhelming sorrow and anger and torture of remembering the events of my miscarriage today and it feels almost sacrilegious to be celebrating an angel birthday on a day of death and sorrow.  I think I have held in these memories and emotions for 7 years and with all the stress and anxiety of things going on in our family right now along with all the crap of 2020 these emotions are boiling to the surface and causing me heart breaking pain.  Please indulge me as I remember the bad and the good and then maybe I can make some sense out of all of this.

I woke up 7 years ago and the slight spotting of the day before had turned to actual bleeding and I knew all the false hopes of the day before were ending.  I quickly called my nurse and she was able to change my ultrasound appt. from late afternoon to earlier in the morning.  It was then that I realized that I had no vehicle to drive myself to my appointment.  My oldest child had taken our mini van to her college classes and my husband and driven our suburban to what I thought all the way to work, but, actually was only down the street to our trax station, but, I wasn't in the frame of mind to really understand or comprehend what my husband said about where he had parked.  I had to call my parents to give me a ride to the hospital, yes, the same hospital where Janessa died because that is where my doctors office was located.  My husband rode Trax from his work and met me at the entrance.  I remember my parents anxious faces trying to reassure me, but, also not quite understanding what I was actually feeling.  I'm not sure if I had even told them I was pregnant before this day.  I had major trigger memories as we walked into the ultrasound room and the technician started the ultrasound.  Again, we were met with somber expressions as she looked and looked for a heartbeat and then told us those awful words again--I'm so sorry, there is no heartbeat, your baby is gone.  We were then rushed to a room for the doctor to again reaffirm those words, but, this time there was no comforting words of empathy like he had when Janessa died.  This time I got my doctors clinical speech about how fetus's die and miscarriages are normal, blah, blah, blah and then was given the collection cup and told that I would probably miscarry in the next 3-5 days and then sent on my way.  Miscarriages may have been an normal, everyday occurrence for him, but, for me this was my wanted and loved rainbow baby that was supposed to help with the healing of the holes in my heart from Janessa and Hope's deaths, instead this baby added another hole to my already wounded heart!  I remember walking down the hallway of doom to the exit, I was grateful I didn't have to walk out in the waiting room and see all the happy pregnant women, but, this hallway was torturous because it was filled with huge pictures of newborn babies and happy parents holding their newborn babies.  It was too much of a reminder of what I was never going to get and I ended up running the rest of the way out of the hallway to escape out the exit door.

I wanted to just collapse in the suburban and cry, but, it was then that I realized that the suburban was at the Trax Station near our home and we would have to endure a 20 minute ride on public transportation to get to it.  I remember just sitting on the Trax Train feeling nothing but empty.  There were 2 women near us chatting and laughing about all these happy things going on in their life and I remember just wanting to yell at them to SHUT UP--didn't they realize my life had fallen apart and it was all I could do to just hold myself together and not curl up in a ball and weep my eyes out!  It was a LONG 20 minute ride.  I had no idea how to tell our kids that another one of their siblings had died--it was awful!  But, this is one of the good moments, because I had a previous miscarriage, I knew what was happening and what to expect so that fear was replaced with making last minute memories with Jason and wanting this miscarriage to be different than Hope's had been.  We took last family pictures of us gathered together around my pregnant belly and talked about what was happening.  We decided together what this baby's name was going to be, Jason Nephi.  We cried and hugged.  I was hoping to get another couple of days with Jason and I had begun to make last minute bucket list ideas, but, that was not to be.  2 hours after we got home my mini labor pains began to become really intense and I miscarried my precious baby into my hands again.   

I still don't totally understand why I was given such hope and healing at the beginning of my pregnancy with Jason in actually becoming pregnant and then being able to see his heartbeat on the first ultrasound and feeling such hope after we passed the 10 week mark when I had miscarried Hope.  I truly thought Jason was going to be my wanted and needed rainbow baby.  It was devastating to have the hope ripped from me again.  It broke me to pieces and 7 years later I am still trying to pick up those pieces and put myself together again.