The Loss of Liam

In 2015, I became a grandparent not once but twice. Since this is my Becoming50 blog, I thought I would share the story with you. However, I must tell you upfront; this story starts off wonderful and becomes very sad. Thank God the heartbreaking part of this story, although not rare...doesn't happen often.

Becoming a grandparent is the best thing that has ever happened to me... Earlier this year, I became a Lolly, LA LA, grandma; whatever that precious little Bird wants to call me. I call her Birdie, her real name is Kennah but when she was only a few days old her parents were afraid to bathe her, so I showed them the art of giving a BIRD bath! From that point forward, to me she became Birdie. She's almost 11 months old and the most precious adorable angel on earth.

Birdie (AKA Kennah) with her parents

As you can imagine and I am sure it happens in other families, when you get one grandchild they seem to somehow multiply. Earlier this year we found out that Birdie would be getting a little boy cousin to play with. Our family was so excited about our little Liam who was due to arrive in March of 2016. 

Now for those of you who do not know me personally, I want to share my passion for babies and pregnancy. While I am an entrepreneur and have enjoyed several careers, my heart and passion belongs in the halls of the labor and delivery unit. I have been a nurse for nearly 20 years, most of that time spent helping babies come into the world.  It’s a truly rewarding career and 90% of the time it's the happiest place to be in a hospital. The other 10% can be tragic and heartbreaking. 

I have shared with parents and been blessed to be a part of the happiest day of their lives and on the other side, I have been there on the saddest days as well. For almost 20 years, I shared tears of joy and tears of sorrows with hundreds, if not thousands of new parents. Not every pregnancy ends with joy and no one is ever supposed to leave the hospital without a baby in their arms. 

In labor and delivery units around the country, an image of a fallen leaf with a teardrop is posted on the door of the patients who have suffered a fetal loss. The medical term is fetal demise and when this tiny baby is born it is called a stillborn. These are babies who are past 20 weeks gestation. The reason that I am explaining this is because this is not a miscarriage. This is a fully-formed tiny baby some of whom could have survived outside the womb and led normal, full lives. I never knew until this week that people don't understand the difference between a miscarriage and a stillborn. Both are devastating, but after 20 weeks you experience actual labor and then deliver a baby that is big enough to hold in the palm of your hand.

For 20 years I have stood outside the doors with the posted picture of the fallen leaf with a teardrop, I would always pause, say a prayer and then go in as a nurse to comfort, console, and care for that family and that precious stillborn baby. When the precious, tiny, and sometimes full term baby is born, we bath them, take photos and foot prints. We then dress them and hand them to their mom, dad and others who are present to hold their baby for the first and last time. This is an important step in the process of this type of loss. It's the hardest thing I ever have to do as a nurse but it's critical for everyone involved to start the grief process.

On December 1st, 2015. I walked into the hospital as a grandparent. I walked down the hall of the labor and delivery unit like l have done for 20 years at similar hospitals, but this time, I was the grandparent. As I got to the hospital room known as LD 12. I looked up and saw the so familiar picture that I have been seeing for nearly 20 years but this was part of me. I was not the nurse; I was not an employee doing her job. I was the grandparent and this was my grandson. The fallen leaf cut me to the core.

This week, my only son, had a son. My grandson Liam was born at 25 weeks and he was a stillborn. He weighed just over a pound and could have survived outside the womb had things been different. He was perfect in a way that only God can make a baby perfect. Liam has perfect features, long fingers, long feet, a precious little mouth with the perfect bow in his top lip. He had a little turned up nose like his mother. He was perfection without a heartbeat. I did some of the things for Liam that I have done for nearly 20 years for other families. I put lotion on him, I dressed him. I put a hat on his little head and handed him to his mother.

                                                              Liam Caleb Meadows

The day Liam was born was the same day I walked into a funeral home that we drive by nearly every day and chose a casket. The day after Liam was born I went to the cemetery and saw where his final resting place would be; among other infants and stillborn babies.  I thought that the fallen leaf had shaken me to my core until I saw on the burial papers these words: Liam Caleb Meadows- Grave 29.

In all of this week’s tragic events God has shown up in every place. I have known and said for many years, "God lives in the hallway of labor and delivery units everywhere". God also lives in funeral homes and in cemeteries. HE DOES! I know I felt him there these past few days. I did these awful things alone thinking, I am tough and I don't want to burden other people with this awful job of making funeral arrangements for a baby and then for a little while I thought I made a mistake to do this alone. I could have taken a family member, a friend, my pastor or his wife but I know now, I was not alone; God was there. He was the face of the kind people at the funeral home and he was the face of the Catholic priest who cried with me. God was there. I was not alone. 

I guess, for me, sharing this story is part of the grief process but as a natural educator it's about helping people understand the difference between a stillborn baby and a miscarried baby. Both hurt and both are devastating for sure. I, myself have suffered the loss of an early pregnancy. This pain is different and in its own way perhaps it's easier to see the face of your baby and hold him with a stillborn like Liam. Miscarriages and stillborn babies are heartbreaking for different reasons but it's important not to compare them when talking to a new mom. The mothers of stillborn babies have a different grief process. It's profoundly different when you have to bury your baby. It's hurtful to the new mom to compare a miscarriage to a stillborn. After 20 years, I never fully realized that most people don't know the difference until this week. I certainly never thought comparing them was hurtful.

In 2015 I became a grandparent, a Lolly, a LA LA to both Birdie and Liam. Today, I share only part of the story of Liam. His story will go on. Liam was loved on this earth and now he rests in the loving arms of Jesus.  Liam is not a fallen leaf but a heavenly angel.

Liam Caleb Meadows December 1 2015

www.gofundme.com/liamcaleb