# Lily's story



## Mickiswing (Apr 10, 2005)

Lily's Story

I have so much I want to write and remember but I'm struggling with it. I've had my cries off and on today and already feeling so taxed and emotional that I'm just not sure I want to start all over again. But I'm so torn and just NEED to make sure I have a written record of this last week, even if I never read it again.

We've been so busy with Grandpa's passing, the viewing and funeral, and with a large amount of family staying nearby. There were dinners every night and people coming and going. Since the day before Grandpa's death I'd been over to Grandma's and back several times a day, trying to help with meals for her and then making arrangements or just offering comfort and company.

So I didn't think too much of my fatigue. I was almost eighteen weeks along in my fifth pregnancy. I had just gotten out my maternity clothes and was still swimming in them, but definitely starting to show. I had felt the baby move slightly a few times, but because I'd been so busy that I hadn't really noticed any changes. Wednesday morning I had a brief thought that I hadn't noticed the baby, who I affectionately called my Tiny Dancer, move for a while, but brushed it off because it's still so early and I thought I was just being paranoid.

Dan was supposed to go hiking that morning with my brothers Scott and Bryan. I woke up with a headache and such fatigue and dizziness that he decided to stay home so I could just sit back and rest for a while. I spent most of the morning on my laptop, trying to get photos and slideshows from Grandpa's funeral uploaded to a file sharing site so I could send out the links to family.

Shortly after lunch I left to go to my OB checkup. I really had no reason to think anything would be different, especially since at my last appointment, just four weeks ago, I saw the baby on an ultrasound, with a healthy beating heart, dancing around happily. Vivian, my CNM (certified nurse midwife) and I chatted for a while, I asked a few questions and then laid back to find the heartbeat with the handheld Doppler device. She had a bit of a difficult time finding anything, but I wasn't worried because the baby was still so small and I've had some brief moments of silence with past pregnancies, just trying to chase the baby down and get a good reading. After a few minutes, Vivian just shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well oh well. You just get to take another peek at your baby on the ultrasound machine."

I got dressed and switched into a different exam room. Vivian told me right up front, "Now I'm no ultrasonographer, so bear with me here." The first thing I noticed was a beautiful little profile. And then I noticed that the baby wasn't moving. I took a deep breath and just waited, mostly because sometimes that little one is just sleeping and the prodding of the ultrasound wand is enough to get it going. But then I noticed I couldn't really see a heartbeat. I'm no ultrasound tech either, but I've had four babies and I can usually at least identify a heartbeat. Vivian tried a little harder for a minute, sighed and said, "I'm going to set you up with Cindy, our tech, but I have to tell you, I don't like what I'm seeing here." I held my breath to steel myself. I promised I wouldn't panic until I knew something for sure, hoping that I was just being paranoid again.

Cindy told me to take a seat and apologized that I had to wait for just a minute. She had just finished up with another, very pregnant woman and had some paperwork to finish up. When I did climb up on that table, she looked very serious, and I knew Vivian had warned her that things might not be positive. The same image pulled up on the screen, and Cindy told me that she wanted to be absolutely sure before saying anything. I told her I wouldn't react until she told me something for certain. But I knew. I watched Cindy's eyes tear up and she just said, "Sorry. I'm so sorry." over and over. I put my hands over my face and just sobbed. Vivian came back into the room and held my hand and they both apologized while they took some more measurements. Cindy told Vivian that fibroid had doubled in size since my last ultrasound, the placenta looked a little misshapen and the baby's head had some edema, or swelling. There was no obvious reason for passing away. Later I learned that the placenta had begun to break down and the swelling of the baby's head was a small bleed. We were unable to get a good view to find out the gender.

Cindy offered to call Dan for me, but I told her I would do it. Vivian brought me back into the exam room and explained that we had a few options at this point, but assured me that I was too far along to just have a D & C, I would have to deliver the baby. She left to talk to one of the doctors and I called Dan. By now my entire body was shaking with shock and emotion. In shaky words I told Dan "We lost our baby." And then I lost control. I heard Dan, in shock himself say, "What?" I haltingly explained what had happened and told him that he needed to come over while I had some blood work done and tried to figure out what would happen next. Dan called my mom, who was just blocks away at my Grandma's house and she came right over to stay with the kids. Dan was in tears when he arrived and we both broke down. Vivian briefly explained the delivery process and a few of the details of what to expect and what choices we had. Sometime over the next few days I was told that Vivian thought I might have had some sort of clotting disorder, but the blood work came back normal, which I'm grateful for. It would have made things much more dangerous. I was sent down to the hospital admitting to have blood drawn and Dan and I drove home.

We got home just as my mom was about to leave to pick up Evie from school. I was jittery and restless and decided to go with her. I explained in further detail what had happened and she held my hand and cried with me. While we were waiting at the school, Diana, one of the ladies from church approached me and commented on how cute I was, just starting to get a little tummy and I burst into tears again. My mom explained the situation and Diana apologized for saying anything. She was extremely uncomfortable but offered her help with whatever we needed. I asked if she'd call our Relief Society president and a few ladies in the ward to pass around the word. The last thing I wanted was to have to explain things in person more than necessary.

Evie came out of class, happy as ever to see my mom and I. She held my hand on the way home and I listened to her chatter about her day. My mom stuck around until the bus dropped Jackson off. Once he was settled in, Dan and I called the kids into the front room and told them we had something very important to tell them.

We explained that I had just gone to the doctor and we found out that our baby had been very sick and had died. That our Heavenly Father loved our baby SO much that He wanted its spirit to go back to heaven to be with him. That our baby, who we loved and wanted so much was happy with Grandpa now. Jackson and Charlie looked shocked, but didn't say much. Evie broke down into tears and so did Dan and I. We just held her and cried together. We explained that I needed to go for a visit in the hospital now to make my body better so it could start healing. Poor Evie told me she didn't want to go to school because her teacher didn't allow crying and she didn't think she could stop crying for our baby. I promised I'd talk to her teacher, but that she could stay home if she wanted to.

It was hard watching Dan. In our nine years of marriage, I've only seen him cry a handful of times, but never like this. My heart was breaking and watching his break too only made things harder. But those tears were just proof that he loved this little one as much as I did.

I had to keep moving. I was afraid if I sat down that I would lose myself altogether, and so we packed up the kids and took them over to Granny's house as we had intended to originally. My mom had already called Granny and all my siblings so we wouldn't have to spread the word ourselves. The kids were glad to have the distractions too and they ran off to play. Granny met me at the door and held me and cried with me. She told me that this was in no way my fault. She told me how much she loved me and wished we didn't have to go through this. One by one my siblings and their families showed up, tears in their eyes as well with love and hugs for all of us.

My brother Scott and his wife Amanda had been here for Grandpa's funeral and I know this had to have been very uncomfortable for them. Amanda is 30 weeks pregnant with boy/girl twins and they are so excited for their little ones. I told them both that no matter what happens, I don't want them to feel uncomfortable about sharing their happiness about their babies with me. I don't want to miss any of their joy and hope they won't feel like they need to hide it from me.

I don't remember what we ate, but after dinner the whole family gathered in Granny's living room. My Uncle Jim and Aunt Marsha, their son Jay and his wife Susie and their son James, my cousin-in-law Stacy and a few of their friends were there. My mom, Granny, Scott and Amanda, Bryan, Rachel, Kallie, Allen, Alexis, Kim and her fiancé Josh were all there as well.

Taken from my blog:
We did have a touching experience with my family tonight. All my siblings are here in Utah right now, and we asked if my brothers and my uncle would give Dan, Evie and I priesthood blessings. Dan, along with two of my brothers and my uncle, gave Evie a blessing of comfort. Then my brother Bryan gave Dan a blessing of comfort with the other men. Dan was able to give me a blessing of healing and comfort. We had a whole room of family there. My mom, my grandma, our children, all my siblings and their spouses/fiance, a few of my cousins and an aunt and uncle were there. I wasn't expecting what happened immediately afterward, but I'm so glad it did. I can't be sure who it was, but someone suggested we sing together. I can't really explain how much singing and music has been a part of my family and how much we bond and enjoy that connection. We sat and sang and cried for quite some time and it was beautiful. We sang about the plan of salvation, eternal families, the temple, our Heavenly Father's love and the blessings that come with hardships. I was really touched. I felt like it was a beautiful, four-part harmonized tribute to our baby and I found it very comforting and appropriate.

Emotionally drained and exhausted, we brought the kids home and put them to bed. I really don't remember the rest of what we did that night.

Thursday was spent getting things ready and making plans for the kids while Dan and I would be gone. I finished up laundry, made lists of information on the kids schedules and tried to get things tidied up. I spent some time on the phone trying to spread the news to friends and family, calling the hospital to ask horrifying questions like "What happens if the hospital just 'takes care of my baby' after delivery?" and calling the cemetery and mortuary. I took my pregnancy countdown off my blogs, sent out an Etsy order and a package to Elizabeth, and wrapped up a few things on the computer. After dinner we bathed the kids, said a family prayer and sent them to bed. I made some muffins for breakfast the next morning, set the table and got out the kids vitamins. Eventually I packed my bag for the hospital and took a shower.

Throughout the day I had a lot of bittersweet thoughts. Some were slightly morbid, others just kind of sarcastic. Things like, at least now I don't have to worry about cramming another car seat into the van, or now the family pictures we just took last week won't be outdated quite so soon. Everything from being grateful I don't have to continue wearing maternity clothes because I never got too big and can pack them away immediately to thinking about coloring my hair just because I can.

Dan and I spent a lot of time talking through our options and trying to prepare ourselves for the hard day we knew was coming. There were a lot of things I just didn't want to think about, but more than anything I was afraid of not doing something I would regret later. Over the years I've heard so many stories of women wishing they could go back and hold their babies just once, take pictures, give them a memorial service or keep something physical to remember them by but couldn't face it at the time. I really didn't want that to happen, as hard as I knew it would be to face the pain.

I had felt the need to make something for our baby. I just couldn't let her go without making something for her. I looked through my patterns to try to find one that I could alter to fit her and at first I couldn't find anything. I looked for maybe an hour and started getting upset that nothing was good enough or pretty enough. Dan saw my desperation and started helping me look online until we found one that would work.

I started crocheting a hat, and worked on it for about an hour before realizing it was probably too big. I set it aside and started again, working with the softest, finest yarn I had until it came out the way I wanted it. It's nothing fancy, but it's from me. I was so worried that it wouldn't be the right size and I packed it away in my bag.

I finally went to bed and dropped off into exhaustion pretty quickly but I slept fitfully. I kept waking up and started to think and then couldn't get back to sleep. Around four a.m. I woke up and laid in bed for a while, my mind churning with disjointed thoughts. My stomach was queasy and my head was aching. I said the first of many silent prayers and immediately had the thought that "If this is what it takes to get one of these precious souls a get mortal body, then I'll do it. No matter how hard this will be, I can give my child that gift." I finally got up and rustled around the house with some last minute preparations for the kids and their caregivers for the day. I tried to eat some cold cereal but didn't make it past a few bites before choking on it. I woke Dan around 5:45 and at 6:15 Granny came over to get Jackson up for school and watch the kids until Rachel came over after Kallie woke up.

When we got to the hospital no one knew where we were supposed to go. Originally I had been told that we would be in the gynecological surgery wing, but they had no record of us. A nurse walked us back and forth before finally sending us over to the labor and delivery desk. We were motioned over to a room at the end of the hall, and tried not to think about the heartbeat monitors we could hear from the rooms that we passed. After registering yet again I changed into a gown and we waited.

Janalee came in and introduced herself while she took some blood and got my IV set up. We had just gotten settled into the room and she told us that the computer wasn't working. We weren't too sad to leave unlucky room number thirteen and move into a slightly more remote room further down the hall. I was given a few rounds of IV antibiotics (Zosyn?) to ward off possible infection. The nurses we came into contact with all day were really very sweet and gave us as much quiet and privacy as we needed.

Around 7:45 Vivian arrived with Janalee and talked us through what we should expect again. Every four hours or so I would get an internal dose of Cytotec to help me dilate and they told us to expect to be wrapping up around five o'clock. In most cases it starts to work after the second dose and 'in cases like mine' it gets results after the third dose. She placed the Cytotec and they left us in peace for some time. I dozed off and on in the uncomfortable bed, trying not to dwell on what would happen later that day, but not being able to leave it alone. I felt almost as if I was in a meditative state, not quite conscious, but not quite sleeping either.

I was told I could eat soft foods until noon or so, and Dan brought me a popsicle and some graham crackers. My stomach was growling but I still had no appetite. I ordered some chicken broth from the cafeteria and then some berry flavored Jello. Really, how do you ruin chicken broth and Jello? They were disgusting and I had to stop after two bites.

At 12:45 I had a second dose of Cytotec and within a few minutes I started some mild cramping, nothing more than I would expect with an upcoming period. I had been told that I could have any type of pain relief that I wanted at any point, but I really didn't want an epidural and a catheter and I don't really like the way most pain meds make me feel. As much as I didn't want to feel anything emotionally, I didn't want to miss any of the time we had left with our child. Around three o'clock I opted for Fentinol (sp?) as it has a quick result and also leaves the body quickly. I was really starting to feel queasy so I also had a dose of Phenergan for nausea. The pain medication kicked in quickly, making me feel heavy in the head and a little disoriented. I felt like my thoughts were still very clear, but expressing them was a little difficult and I'm sure I was slurring my speech a bit. The medication didn't seem to last very long, but I wasn't sure whether it was just because the contractions were becoming more intense or the drugs were wearing off. Janalee gave me more pain medication about every hour or so when I asked for it.

Because of the pressure on my bladder I had to get up to use the bathroom every forty-five minutes or so. Using the bathroom was uncomfortable, having to unhook my contraction monitor and wheeling the unstable IV pole along with me, all the while trying to keep my rear end from hanging out of my gown. But it was also terrifying. I had been told by other mothers that have gone through such trials and also by Vivian that the babies are often delivered while on the toilet. I really didn't want that to happen, so I felt I had to be very careful. It would have just been adding insult to injury seeing as what we already had to deal with.

Vivian came in at four o'clock (I think) and checked me for any changes. I still wasn't dilating and hadn't made any internal progress that she could see. She gave me a thorough internal sweep which was very uncomfortable and inserted another dose of Cytotec. She said to be prepared as things usually pick up quite a bit after the third dose. Janalee came to check on us just often enough to reassure us that she was ready and waiting.

During the afternoon some time Dan called Myers Mortuary and happened to talk to the funeral director that we had met the previous week for Grandpa's funeral. Dan had helped dress Grandpa along with Bryan and my Uncle Jim and the funeral director remembered him. Dan made arrangements with him and found out that in cases of stillborn babies, Myers actually offers free services. We were prepared to pay whatever we needed to give our child a proper memorial but thought it was very touching news.

Dinner time came and went without any changes. I was starting to get frustrated. I just wanted everything to start so we could meet our sweet babe and say our goodbyes to start the grieving and healing process. I asked Janalee if I could do anything to speed up the process and she told me that the best thing I could do was just continue to stay calm. I was definitely feeling contractions much stronger just a few minutes after four o'clock and was hesitant to ask for more pain medications. I kept thinking that if we choose in the future to have another baby that those labor pains will be so closely associated with sorrow that I wouldn't be able to face them. As much as I hope for a labor without pain medications, I just didn't want this to be harder in the future. I asked for small doses of fentinol when I felt like the contractions were getting stronger.

I knew I was due for another dose of Cytotec at 7:45 and I was dreading it. Dreading that I would have made no progress and afraid that my labor would continue long into the night. Janalee had already left at seven when her shift ended, and her eyes watered up when she said goodbye and wished us luck. We were still waiting for our new nurse to introduce herself around 7:50 when Vivian walked in with Michele. Vivian and Michele chatted with us for a few minutes and I started having to breathe through the contractions. They still weren't horribly painful, but they were getting more intense. I told them that I'd like another dose of pain medication and Vivian said that she would check me and do another dose of Cytotec and get the IV meds.

As we were talking, I felt my body change. I felt a small release of fluid and some mild pressure that hadn't been there before. I think Vivian knew what was happening and she said it was probably my water breaking. Dan was sitting on the couch, using his computer distract himself, which was fine with me, I knew he was worried and trying to stay occupied. Vivian sat down beside me and I told her I felt like I needed to push. She just told me to breathe and she'd check me. Michele lowered the head of the bed and I kept breathing steadily, and trying to stay calm. As Vivian checked me she told Michele she wouldn't need the next dose and I felt just the smallest bit of pressure and she said, "Dad, she's delivered."

I started crying and reached out for Dan's hand as he came to cry next to me. I didn't feel any physical pain at this point but my heart felt like it would burst. Michele held me other hand and Vivian watched as my body took care of itself. Medically everything went as well as it possibly could. Nothing was retained internally and my body clamped down quickly to control the bleeding. I didn't even know what to do at this point. Vivian and Michele spoke quietly and the lights were low in the room. As much sorrow as I felt, I also felt strongly like we were being protected and watched over. Within a few minutes Vivian took our sweet baby to the baby warmer to break open the membrane and take a closer look.

Dan and I both sobbed quietly as she told us, little by little that we had a little girl with ten fingers, ten toes, two beautiful ears and perfectly formed features. She soon told us that the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck twice and then twisted on itself. She warned us that her head was just a little misshapen as she had most likely had a small bleed in utero when she passed away. It was all I could do to pray that she had not suffered.

Vivian asked if we'd like to see her. Dan hadn't decided whether he wanted to or not beforehand, but surprised me when he tearfully said he would. Even as much as I'd heard about what to expect, I was still scared. I never imagined how beautiful and yet how unlike a newborn she would be. Every little feature was visible, though impossibly tiny, her little hands and feet no bigger than the tip of my index finger and her skin was dark. I asked to hold her and I was shocked at how light she really was. The blanket she was wrapped in was probably heavier than she was. She looked like our older kids, with long, beautiful fingers and toes. Her soft little fragile body fit right into the palm of my hand, but I yearned to press her body against my heart and embrace her. After a few minutes I just couldn't bear it anymore and Dan said he'd like to hold her too. He spent a moment with her and Vivian told her that she had a special room that she would be in, just in case we wanted to see her again. They left us alone for a few minutes and we cried together.

The passing of time gets a little unclear at that point. Dan and I talked and cried a little more and Dan suggested the name Lily Dawn. Dawn, after my grandpa, Donald. I cried again and thought it was just right, a beautiful, delicate name for our sweet little girl. Dan said he wasn't ready to talk to our families, but I needed to get it out of the way while I still felt like I was holding together. So I called my mom, and then Dan's mom and passed on what information I felt I could.

I was brought a sandwich which I managed to eat a few bites of. Michele told us she'd called the mortuary we had made arrangements with, came in frequently to check on me and told me specifically to call her when I needed to get up and use the bathroom. She gave me some oral pain medication, some more nausea medication and hooked up some pitocin to my IV. When I did get up, she and another nurse helped me on my unsteady feet to the bathroom and they moved a more comfortable bed into my room and changed the bedding while I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Once I had settled back into bed Michele told me she was a little concerned about how pale I was and that my blood pressure was a bit on the low side, so be sure to call again if I needed to get up.

Some time around ten three women around my age came into the room. I wish I could remember their names, but I specifically remember their faces. They introduced themselves from two different organizations. Two were from SHARE, a support program for families with early losses, from miscarriage and stillborn to infants. The other was a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, which is a volunteer organization that takes pictures of babies that have either left this world or have a short period of time here with their families. They told us they'd already taken a quick look at Lily and told us how beautiful she was. They were delighted in the hat I'd made and said it was exactly the right size, which both thrilled and crushed me at the same time. They let us know when they were holding support groups and walks for fundraising and gave us some information on bereavement and grieving. The ladies from SHARE said they would do their best to get Lily's hand and feet prints along with molds for us to keep. The hospital had given us a tiny memorial box to take home, and they added a few things to it after they were done. In addition to the tiny heart pendant and stuffed heart sachet they enclosed a small teddy bear, a miniature hat, a miniature gold ring, all of which had been with Lily while they took her pictures. They weighed and measured her at 2.3 ounces and six inches long. I'm grateful they were able to come and I know they treated Lily with the respect and reverence she deserves.

Vivian gave me some Ambien to help me sleep that night and I dropped off to sleep quickly, my body exhausted from the long week that we'd already had. Dan said the mortuary came by around midnight to pick up Lily's body and we'll meet with them on Tuesday afternoon to make arrangements for a quiet burial.

I did get up a few times during the night to use the bathroom and went back to sleep quickly and then woke around 8:00. Dan was still sleeping, so I let him stay there for a while until I needed some helping getting up again. A new nurse, Verlene came into to check on us and brutalize my abdomen again. Vivian told us she'd be in after an appointment at eleven but had left orders that I could have my IV taken out as long as I was trying to eat and drink and I had Verlene remove it as soon as I could. The back of my hand is bruised and my wrist is swollen, but it was great to get it taken out and move freely again. I ate some tasteless oatmeal, but whether it's because the hospital food is disgusting or because my taste buds are rebelling, I don't know.

My chest was starting to ache. Mother Nature knows how to run her course, whether your baby is healthy or not. Verlene wrapped me up in a new, but sour-smelling ACE bandage and gave me some Benadryl to help. Today, two days later I have no signs of milk production, but with my other kids it was the third day that really got to me, so we'll see what happens. I do feel lucky in the fact that although I did have to go through the whole labor and delivery process, I'm really not terribly sore. From time to time I get some moderate cramping, but physically I'm feeling pretty good, just very tired.

While we were waiting to be discharged I worked on a sweater for a friend that's having a baby. She's suffered through eight years of infertility and is now expecting her third baby. We would have been due about three weeks apart. I was happy to see that I could still work on the sweater and as hard as this is, I'm still so excited for her and don't begrudge her one minute of happiness with her new baby.

When Vivian came to sign us out, she talked us through all the regular post partum stuff, what to expect, what to be worried about, when to call. She said to keep my activity to a minimum for at least ten days and also warned that postpartum depression is an even higher possibility with a loss. I'll go back in for a checkup in about three weeks. That's another bittersweet tidbit of good news - the recovery period is generally shorter than with a full term baby and I won't suffer through the exhaustion of getting up at night to take care of a newborn.

I was grateful I was allowed to walk out of the hospital room instead of being wheeled out, past all the new babies and onlookers and even more grateful to get home to our kids, our bed and our shower. No family should ever have to leave the hospital without their baby. That's the hardest thing I have ever done.

Today is Sunday, two days later and physically I'm feeling okay, nothing that a little ibuprofen can't take care of. My eyes are swollen and my appetite is nonexistent but I have been able to eat and Dan's keeping close watch on the kids so I can rest. I know Dan's still grieving as well but keeping busy and having other distractions seems to be what he needs right now. Our friends from church have been bringing in dinners and we've had so many people express their sympathies, from many different methods of correspondence. I'm grateful for all of them, though I'm not quite ready to talk in person yet.

I've been keeping busy today, working on little projects and crying when I need to. I miss my belly, I miss the nausea and all the discomforts that pregnancy brings. I want my little girl back. But through all the pain I still know our Heavenly Father loves us. I've felt His love so much these last few days and felt my testimony of the gospel grow. Our Lily Dawn is happy with all our loved ones that have already passed and they're looking out for her and the rest of our family. We'll have the chance to spend eternity with her if we keep our covenants. More than anything, I still feel hope.


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## Amy&4girls (Oct 30, 2006)

I am so sorry you lost your precious Lily Dawn. Thank you so much for sharing her precious life w/us so we can remember her w/you. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.


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## laurelg (Nov 27, 2007)

Your story was beautiful. It made me cry. Thank you for sharing.


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## Vermillion (Mar 12, 2005)

Your story has me in tears. I read so much of my own story in it, I could feel everything with every word...

I'm so sorry







These first days are so surreal.

Sending you lots of love and peace, strength and healing. You and your family are in my thoughts right now. I wish I had more to offer than just words and telling you that you're not alone...










Thank you for sharing your precious Lily Dawn with us.


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## SimplyRochelle (Feb 21, 2007)

I'm so sorry about little Lily Dawn. Just keep taking things a day at a time and don't underestimate the support of people here at mdc. Thank you for sharing your daughter's story with all of us here.


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## namaste_mom (Oct 21, 2005)

I'm so sorry to read of your loss. Please be kind and gentle with yourself in the coming months...








Lily Dawn


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## MI_Dawn (Jun 30, 2005)

: Lily Dawn







:

What a beautiful name. Thank you so very much for sharing your story... her story. I'm so glad you had so much support and love around you. Grief comes in waves... you can come here for support, too, on the days you feel you're drowning. We're here for you.


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## Vespertina (Sep 30, 2006)

Lily Dawn is a beautiful name. I'm so sorry she's not with you, mama. My heart goes out to you.














Thank you for sharing your story.







:








Lily Dawn


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## Jenifer76 (Apr 20, 2005)




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## GearGirl (Mar 16, 2005)

I am so sorry for your loss, what a beautiful name you chose for your little angel.


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## bc1995 (Mar 22, 2004)

I am so sorry for her loss.







Her name is beautiful.


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## AmyKT (Aug 20, 2009)

I'm so sorry about your beautiful Lily Dawn. Beautiful name, beautiful mama love. I wish you healing and peace.


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## AbbeyWH (Feb 3, 2009)

Lily Dawn

I am so sorry for your loss.








It's a long road toward healing, we are here to listen as much as you need (((HUGS)))


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## Carolyn R (Mar 31, 2008)

Oh, it's always heartbreaking to have someone new join the loss boards, but please know we are all here to support and encourage you. I know the coming days will be so hard, but it sounds like you're doing as well as can be expected. I was so glad to hear you say you're holding onto hope - that helped me get through our loss, too.

Wishing you peace and strength in the coming days and months. God bless you.

Carolyn


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## KeyToMamasHeart (May 1, 2009)

i have a candle lit here beside me for your sweet Lily Dawn <3 i'm so sorry for your loss, your story has brought me to heavy tears honey...thank you for sharing it with us. hugs to you and your whole family <3


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## Mickiswing (Apr 10, 2005)

Mamas, thanks so much for all of your sweet words! I'm still around, just dealing with everything one day at a time. I'm hoping that I'll be able to be more supportive to all the other tender hearts here soon. In the meantime please know that I think of you and all the love and support you've lended. Thank you!

Micki


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## Mickiswing (Apr 10, 2005)

Mamas, I've tried to update my profile and signature with my blog address if anyone would like to visit, but I'm not sure if it's working. For reference, it's www.mickismenagerie.blogspot.com

Thanks


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