Today is our daughter Rose's 2nd birthday. There won't be any cake or candles to blow out. There won't be any toys wrapped up to be ripped apart and there won't be any sticky chubby cheeks to kiss. However, there will be flowers...Roses to be exact. 12 roses that we will lay on her headstone. There will be tears, prayers & hearts full of a range of emotions.
Rose Noelia Allred was born July 30th of 2011, she had already passed before her birth. We didn't hear that wonderful first cry, or have a tiny fist curl tightly over a finger, and that treasured first suckle was never to be felt. The warmth of her body was never to be felt tucked into a loving arm.
When we found out that we were expecting again...we were surprised, happy and nervous. Figuring out the birth-date, we knew that Orion (our 3rd) would only be 18 months at the time of her arrival...but we knew we could do it.
Rose let me know her presence as soon as she could. Being my fourth, I was able to distinguish her stirrings from my own body. She was a mover...even at the first ultrasound at 10 weeks, what a dancer! She was moving every which way showing us how full of life she was. She was very much a part of this life.
During this pregnancy, we kept it a secret as much as possible...we were planning on surprising grandparents and family when we found out the sex. Little did we know. We went in at 19 weeks for the ultrasound. I had been feeling worried because the baby had been pretty still inside me for a couple of weeks. We passed it off as Pregnancy paranoia...but it was more than that. We instantly knew something was wrong when the image came up and the normal profile of the baby didn't come up. Our hearts began to race and tears came to the surface...we knew something was wrong without anything being said. A doctor was called in and examined every angle possible. He then asked if we knew what Turner's syndrome was. He then explained that it is when one of the xx chromosomes (sex genes) was damaged or missing in a girl. It was a girl! He then explained that many girls are born and lead successful lives with Turner's syndrome...but then he told us that our baby's case was severe and that she would not make it full term. For her, without the full sex genes intact like they should have been, she had only developed three chambers of her heart and no bladder could be found. Her body was taking in the amniotic fluid without a way for it to escape. She was on limited time. Her heart was beating strongly, but the strain of the fluids would catch up. I hadn't been able to feel her the last couple of weeks because of how swollen she was and the lack of fluid in the sac was causing my uterus to hug her tightly.
Josh and I were crushed. We cried. We prayed. We clung to each other and cried even more. Hearing that your baby is not going to make it is the worst news to ever hear. A baby comes with hope, dreams, and visions of their future life. We were just told that we would not be able to have that...that she wouldn't be able to have that. The doctor told us that we had some time but that she wouldn't make it the whole way. I always carried hope...what mother wouldn't? But we had the overwhelming feeling that we needed to accept Heavenly Father's will no matter what. That is a hard thing sometimes.
"When sorrow, tragedy, or heartbreak occur in our lives wouldn't it be comforting if when the whisperings of God say, 'Do you know why this has happened to you?' we could have the peace of mind to answer, 'No, but you do.'"- Marvin J. Ashton
On the way home, the above quote kept floating through my mind...I knew that I felt in the dark and crushed...but I also knew that Heavenly Father knew and that He is always in the light. This was my comfort.
Arriving home, we wanted to shut out the world, and we did for a bit. But we had to tell our 3 other children and we had to tell our parents. Both were heartbreaking. The kids were sad but showed us amazing and innocent understanding. They came and provided us with much comfort. Telling our parents was hard to tell them that we were expecting and that the baby wouldn't make it, much heartache was there.
A little over 2 weeks passed...and as any mother knows when something is wrong with one of her children, I knew when her time had come. I woke the first day of kindergarten for my oldest, Ella. I knew that Rose's heart had stopped. I was barely handling it taking Ella to her first day of school. So many asking me when the baby was due...I finally broke down crying in front of so many and felt as if my world was crashing...again. The next day was my appointment with my doctor. He tried talking optimistically about how long she would last, but I knew that she already had passed on. My sister was with me and held my hand as he searched for her heartbeat...there was only the rhythmic sound of my own blood coursing through my body. He hugged me and kept repeating how sorry he was. I went over to the hospital with my sister for an ultrasound to confirm the lack of a heartbeat. I didn't expect much knowing how little we could see of her before. However, when they started the ultrasound, I was amazed how her sweet profile came up on the screen. I don't know how it was possible...to me, it was a miracle. They gave me a copy so that I might have that peaceful view of her. I cherish it.
My sister stayed with me as I was admitted to the maternity room and waited for Josh to arrive. What a solemn experience. So unlike the previous 3 times being admitted for my children. No excitement of what would come...only dread. No waiting to hear that magical cry...the night would be silent. No first magical suckle to bond baby and mom...I still yearn for that. No warm baby to cuddle in my embrace...my arms still ache. She came silently into the world at 12:55 am. She weighed less than a pound. The effects of Turner's Syndrome were unkind...but she was our beautiful baby girl.
We named her Rose Noelia. We held her throughout the night. We touched her tiny features...put our thumbs under her fingers and held those perfect little feet. We didn't take any pictures, we felt that it wasn't right for us. At times I regret it, but it is done and it cannot be changed. We cried together and discussed funeral arrangements. This is not what you ever want to do for your child. It is the worst feeling and unnatural.
The night was long and the morning passed quickly. The time came to leave the hospital. It was hard not being able to take her with us...knowing she would be picked up by our friends who were the funeral directors that we chose. I was given a bear...that is what I held in my arms as I was wheeled out of the hospital. I kept my sunglasses on and avoided the pitiful stares of strangers who just knew that this was not right.
Numb...that it was you feel...numb & drained. At the same time, I felt the most love and compassion than ever before in my life. I felt it from Heaven and I felt it from my loved ones. There are so many things that I am not including in this narrative...partly that I emotionally cannot put it into writing, and also so much is so personal and spiritual that it is not to be shared publicly.
Her funeral was 6 days later on a Friday. It was just us and the Parkers (our friends who picked her up). Josh had made her casket and I had lined it. We placed her bundle in it and included special items. Then, Josh knelt on the ground and carefully placed her into the ground. It took so much of him to do this...but he needed it too. I was so blessed to carry her in me for that short time...but it was time. Josh never got to feel her movement. He did what he could.
A little over 2 weeks passed...and as any mother knows when something is wrong with one of her children, I knew when her time had come. I woke the first day of kindergarten for my oldest, Ella. I knew that Rose's heart had stopped. I was barely handling it taking Ella to her first day of school. So many asking me when the baby was due...I finally broke down crying in front of so many and felt as if my world was crashing...again. The next day was my appointment with my doctor. He tried talking optimistically about how long she would last, but I knew that she already had passed on. My sister was with me and held my hand as he searched for her heartbeat...there was only the rhythmic sound of my own blood coursing through my body. He hugged me and kept repeating how sorry he was. I went over to the hospital with my sister for an ultrasound to confirm the lack of a heartbeat. I didn't expect much knowing how little we could see of her before. However, when they started the ultrasound, I was amazed how her sweet profile came up on the screen. I don't know how it was possible...to me, it was a miracle. They gave me a copy so that I might have that peaceful view of her. I cherish it.My sister stayed with me as I was admitted to the maternity room and waited for Josh to arrive. What a solemn experience. So unlike the previous 3 times being admitted for my children. No excitement of what would come...only dread. No waiting to hear that magical cry...the night would be silent. No first magical suckle to bond baby and mom...I still yearn for that. No warm baby to cuddle in my embrace...my arms still ache. She came silently into the world at 12:55 am. She weighed less than a pound. The effects of Turner's Syndrome were unkind...but she was our beautiful baby girl.
We named her Rose Noelia. We held her throughout the night. We touched her tiny features...put our thumbs under her fingers and held those perfect little feet. We didn't take any pictures, we felt that it wasn't right for us. At times I regret it, but it is done and it cannot be changed. We cried together and discussed funeral arrangements. This is not what you ever want to do for your child. It is the worst feeling and unnatural.
The night was long and the morning passed quickly. The time came to leave the hospital. It was hard not being able to take her with us...knowing she would be picked up by our friends who were the funeral directors that we chose. I was given a bear...that is what I held in my arms as I was wheeled out of the hospital. I kept my sunglasses on and avoided the pitiful stares of strangers who just knew that this was not right.Numb...that it was you feel...numb & drained. At the same time, I felt the most love and compassion than ever before in my life. I felt it from Heaven and I felt it from my loved ones. There are so many things that I am not including in this narrative...partly that I emotionally cannot put it into writing, and also so much is so personal and spiritual that it is not to be shared publicly.
Her funeral was 6 days later on a Friday. It was just us and the Parkers (our friends who picked her up). Josh had made her casket and I had lined it. We placed her bundle in it and included special items. Then, Josh knelt on the ground and carefully placed her into the ground. It took so much of him to do this...but he needed it too. I was so blessed to carry her in me for that short time...but it was time. Josh never got to feel her movement. He did what he could.
The Arizona Monsoons turned the sky black that day and threatened with lightning and thunder, but it did not rain. On the day of her memorial service when we laid her headstone with family and friends on her due date of December 5, the clouds came again and snow fell! In southern Arizona, this was a miracle of its own. I knew that God was giving me a message of love and that He is aware of me and all individually. It was a special message for me.
During Rose's short life and since her passing, I have seen her influence on my life and others. I have felt her presence many times and still do. I know she had and has a mission of her own that I cannot comprehend in full, but feel blessed for the part that I have and do. She is my beautiful heartbreak. She has taught me so much and I have felt my Heavenly Father's presence in my life strongly. There are dark days and bright days...and a lot of normal days too. My world stopped for a time...and pauses still every now and then...but it does continue on. I am grateful for my husband's love, presence & strength. I grateful for my three other children, Ella, Leif & Orion, who are a strength to me and love their little sister in their own way. She is a constant part of our lives and conversation. There are reminders of her throughout my house. And often, you will find me wearing a rose to church and always her footprint hanging from my neck. 
I look forward to the resurrection when I will hold her again and feel the warmth from her body. I know that our Father in Heaven is aware of us individually and knows the depth of our hearts. I know that my Savior gave all so that I might have all. I know that he gave us the families we have to become what He wants us to be and that they are forever. I might not understand all that goes on in this life or why...but I know that my Heavenly Father does...and that is good with me. I do not know why it has taken 2 years to share this with others...but something urged me to finally put this out there. Maybe I have enough strength and am ready or maybe someone else needs it. Here it is and you have just shared a piece of my heart.
