2008 - JUNE

I should probably put a note of caution before this post. There are things posted here that some may not be comfortable with, but as I said before, this is my blog. Some who read this may not understand that I want to memorialize some of the things I have . All I can say is, I hope you never do understand.

JUNE - THE WORST MONTH OF MY LIFE

Normally in the summer, Abby and Nicky spend nearly the entire month of July in California. The time when they are gone is my time "in the Garden" (vacation). This year I knew I would have some final prep work to do to get ready for Isabella. We arranged for Abby and Nicky to leave on June 7th and come back on July 12th so they would be here when she was born.

So far, Leslie's pregnancy had been "normal" other than her observation that Isabella didn't move a lot and she seemed to be on the small side. Or, as Dr. Martin said, "the small side of normal". Whatever.

Wednesday, June 4th was a day that started out like any other. Except I wore that red dress that I thought was too tight. I got several compliments on it, but now I'd like to burn the stupid thing. Leslie had an appointment with Dr. Martin that afternoon. I don't remember the time, but my office phone rang and it was her. I could tell the minute I heard her say "Mama" that something was terribly wrong. She said "we lost the baby". I asked where she was, told her I was coming and left. Lisa Beard happened to be in my office, so she had to be the one to break the news to my work family. I didn't go back to my office for 10 days.

I spent the next four days at the hospital with Leslie, as she went through two days of trying to deliver naturally by induced labor. Finally, on Friday morning, they delivered Isabella by C-Section. It was the 6th of June, which is and always will be her birthday. She only weighed 2 pounds and 8 ounces and she was beautiful.

Those days at the hospital were terrible, as I watched my sweet child and her sweet husband go through (what I hope will be) the most agonizing days of their lives.

As terrible as the days were, they were also bittersweet. The days gave us time. Time together to talk and mourn and process what was happening. Time to help Leslie and John plan and make decisions about what would happen in the days to come. If things had happened too quickly, there may have been regrets. As it did happen, they were able to decide whether to hold her, love on her and spend time with her. Which we were all able to do. We took pictures and we made the only memories we'll ever have of that first baby girl. It was such a sweet time. I was in the Garden.

We saw so much love and goodness from so many people. Warren or Claire, or both, were there constantly. They spent many hours with Leslie and John and the rest of us, talking and reading scripture, talking about funeral services and just trying to give comfort. They were truly our Ministers.

Sallie, Lee and Christi drove to Leslie and John's house and carefully went through Isabella's things to find something of hers to put on her when she came into the world. They brought a pink gown, her rhinestone butterfly cap from her Great Granny and her pink and green blanket . They were the perfect things.

If only we could have preserved those things just as they were. They held her smell. I got so upset when one of the nurses told me she had washed out her gown because it had a stain of her blood on it. I wanted to scream at her that we wanted that bloodstain. And her smell. Instead, I just thanked her. She thought she was helping .








Eden had to continue work until the funeral but Beau was good to stay at the house with Abby and Nicky while I was at the hospital. Eden took them to the airport as planned on June 7th, for their trip to California. They weren't here for the funeral, but we felt that was best. I knew I needed to be available for Leslie and I knew they would be loved on and made over with their California family.

John had to take care of many of the preliminary decisions on his own, but then Leslie came home from the hospital on the 9th and the visitation and funeral were planned for Thursday, the 11th. Making those arrangements had to be the most unnatural thing our children will ever have to do. Thank God for Glen Coleman. With his help the decisions were so much easier and everything was done with much loving consideration and care.

I remember thinking about how much fun we had choosing just the right crib and nursery furniture, and then Larry and Beverly bought the furniture for them. Now our children were picking out caskets and Larry and Beverly were buying a family funeral plot so there would be a place to bury our baby. The first time I saw the spot where the plots were and where Isabella was to be buried, I was, to be honest, heartbroken. There was nothing there. My head knew that it didn't matter, she wouldn't really be there, but my heart saw an empty field and her there all alone. I worried about what Leslie would think. Of course, I let my emotions take over and stirred up a fuss about it. But a wise man told me that pretty soon the area would be full and she wouldn't be alone for long. And he was exactly right. I won't mention any names, but his initials are Larry Butts. Today that little hillside is full and she's not alone.

The day of her funeral was classic July in the South. Sunny and hot. I'd never been part of a funeral visitation and didn't know quite what to expect, and was dreading it. But as people came through the line and we hugged and visited, I was amazed at how comforting and healing it was. I was also amazed that over 200 people came through that visitation line for a baby girl they had never laid eyes on.

After everyone but the family had gone from the funeral home, Warren and Claire did a short service in the cool of the air conditioning, then we drove to the cemetery. I had never seen such a tiny grave. And there were so many flowers! There was also the stone "Guardian Angel" that Leslie and I had driven all over Hell and High Water to find. Glen had her ready to watch over Isabella.

As we got out of the car to walk down the hill to the grave site, I wrapped my arms around Leslie. I thought she would need my support. But when John took that tiny white box from Glen and carried it down that hill, it was almost more than I could bear. I was the one that needed help standing and Leslie held me up. I don't know where either of them got the strength and courage they showed during those hellish days, but I am still in awe.

During the service I held Leslie's hand on one side and my Mama's hand on the other. I couldn't tell you who said or read what, other than this . . . Beau read this poem:

The Rose Still Grows Beyond The Wall

Near a shady wall a rose once grew,
Budded and blossomed in God's free light:
Watered and fed by morning dew,
Shedding its sweetness day and night.
As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,
Slowly rising to loftier height,
It came to a crevice in the wall,
Through which there shone a beam of light.
Onward it crept with added strength
With never a thought of fear or pride,
It followed the light through the crevice length,
And unfolded itself on the other side.
The light, the dew, the broadening view
Were found the same as they were before.
And it lost itself in beauties new.
Breathing its fragrance more and more.
Shall claim of death cause us to grieve,
And make our courage faint or fall?
Nay, let us faith and hope receive,
The rose still grows beyond the wall.
Scattering fragrance far and wide,
Just as it did in days of yore.
Just as it did on the other side,
Just as it will forevermore.

After the funeral everyone came back to the Butts' for a meal. All of both families were able to be here, with the exception of Laura and Lana and their families. Boonie brought Sykes across the street to our house and let him swim for a while and I enjoyed just watching him swim and play with Major. It was a very special afternoon. I was in the Garden.

The rest of June is a blur. Mama stayed here so that she could be with Leslie when John and I went back to work. It seemed like someone was always bringing food, so we ate good. We were obsessed with the plants and flowers, what should stay at Leslie's, what needed to come to my house or Beverly's and what should stay on the grave. We didn't have our baby. The "flower and plant" arranging was all we did have and we were consumed by it.

Leslie decided to leave the nursery as it was and it was several months before she put away anything, but eventually one day, out of the blue, she did. It's still a nursery, only not Isabella's.