The Story of our Baby Colette

On Jan 24th our beautiful daughter Colette Eliza Chadwick was born, I know I'm a bit behind on my blogging as today is Feb 18th but I've finally been able to get her story written, and while it is very personal I share this story with all my family with the hopes that you too will be able to know what a beautiful spirit she is, And how blessed we are to have her as part of our family.

Colette Eliza Chadwick

My Special Spirit

We were so excited to be pregnant again. Aaron was five and Bridgett was almost two and we were so happy to add another special spirit to our family. The days passed and the baby grew, along with our love for it. The day came that we found out that we were having a girl and I was secretly delighted. Aaron was a bit disappointed at first but he found the prospect of having a new baby to be more exciting than whether it was a boy or a girl. And the days passed on. Bridgett loved to climb up into bed with me and snuggle against my tummy. It didn't take her long into the pregnancy to realize that if she poked in the just right places, something poked back at her! Aaron also loved to put his hand on my tummy and listen quietly to see if he could bond with his sister. And the days passed on. I loved spending quiet time feeling my baby move, and I was not the only one. Bridgett who could barely talk had learned a new word. She would snuggle in next to me, gently lift up my shirt, rub my tummy and lean in and say “Baby!” How she knew what was in there I have no idea other than for young children the veil must truly be thin. I have no doubt that she had already bonded with the spirit of her younger sister long before birth.

December arrived with a flurry of Christmas preparations and projects. Towards the end of December I started to feel like I was running out of time. I thought that I was feeling that way because I was worried about how Bridgett would deal with having no mommy time after the baby came. She is so young and I knew her life would change after the baby was born. I know that it takes me a while to recover from having a baby and I was worried about how all these changes would effect her. I thought I could ease that feeling by spending more time with her. But even then that feeling of running out of time still came.

The day after Christmas I was exhausted and could barely get out of bed. I thought I had just over done it and needed some rest to get things back to normal. But the feeling kept on. The doctors did another ultra sound to see how big the baby was since I was measuring bigger than normal. Not an unusual thing for me at this point in my pregnancy. I still was not very concerned. I was more uncomfortable than I usually was at this point but I chalked that up to the fact that it was my 3^rd pregnancy and knowing that this baby liked to stretch out as far as she could. The ultra sound revealed that everything was normal. She was measuring two weeks bigger than she actually was but because I deliver C-section the doctors were not concerned. They did mention that I had more fluid then I usually do but when I asked if that was good or bad they said it was neither really. Some pregnancys have more fluid than others.

We continued on into January. I was still very uncomfortable and almost wondered if this baby was going to come early. But she seemed content to stay where she was and the days passed. My blood pressure was low, the baby's' heart rate was good and everything looked happy and healthy. I enjoyed my time with my other babies and my husband, still every once in a while feeling like I was running out of time and assuming that meant only that the quiet peaceful times would soon change for a bit.

Saturday, January 23^rd I took Aaron and Bridgett up to my parent's house to let them have a change of location and get some wiggles out. We played and played with Grandma and Grandpa, had some dinner, and I even gave Bridgett and Aaron both a bath so they were all clean and ready for church the next day. Dressed in their jamies they played some more and had a great time. No one wanted to go home but it was getting late. Upon getting home Dusty helped me to get them into bed and then I laid down on my bed. For the next five hours I struggled with some intense contractions that I could not get to stop. Finally at midnight I called the doctor who suggested we go to Labor and Delivery. If the contractions were doing anything he would start the C-section. If not they would give me something to stop the contractions so I could sleep. We got to the hospital and I felt very overwhelmed. I'd gotten so used to just scheduling C-sections and having everything all planned out and on the calendar. This was something that was just totally new to me. I felt like things were moving to fast and I was just not ready yet! After getting me all hooked up to the monitors and finding the baby's heartbeat, I was only dilated to a 1+ They kept me there for a few hours and checked me again to find that nothing had changed so they sent me home with something to stop the contractions and an Ambian to help me sleep.

At 8:00 that morning when I woke up I realized that my contractions had not stopped but that I had just slept right through them. It didn't' take long to know that we needed to go back to the hospital. Dusty gathered up some clothes for the children and we dropped them off at Mom's house, and off to the hospital we went. This time I was dilated to a 4+ and my contractions were about every 30 seconds, which is great if you are having a regular delivery. They tried to give me something to stop the contractions. Nothing seemed to work, so on with the C-section we went. They did a quick ultra sound to check on the baby and everything looked great. She was moving around tons and I think she wanted to be out just as much as my body seemed to want her out.

The C-section started with jokes and laughter, everyone giving me a hard time about not wanting to go to church and dragging everyone out with me. The doctors asked how big my last babies were and when Dusty said 9lbs 8 oz the doctors joked that they needed to make the “opening” bigger. Everyone was startled at how much fluid I had in me. They ended up emptying almost five containers of fluid rather than the usual one. Then she was out.

Suddenly there were doctors and nurses rushing into our room. I knew something was wrong. “Why isn't' she crying?” I asked Dusty. I could hear doctors shouting out to nurses things like “flat lining” and “no heart beat” and all I could do was lay there while my doctor continued to work on me. I was so worried about my baby but I could not get to her. Dusty sat by me and held my hand and wiped my tears while we both worried. It was the longest minutes of my life. And then we could tell that they had her heart beating. I gave a huge sigh of relief but I was still aware that my beautiful child was still silent. Something else was not right. The doctors kept working on her and kept working on me. I knew that she was in good hands but I could not figure out what was wrong.

From where I was laying all I could see was her little feet kicking in the air, and what a beautiful sight it was. She was fighting and that was all I could ask for. The nurses came over to tell us that her heart was beating, her color was good, and her blood pressure was good too but they were having to help her breathe. They were not sure why but they were hoping that they could get her breathing on her own. They told us that they needed get her stable and fly her to NICU in Provo. I was devastated. I wanted my baby and I didn't' want her to be as far from me as Provo.

My doctor finished up with me and assured me that we needed to be patient, that she was in good hands, and to let the doctors do what they could and as soon as they knew something else they would let us know. I asked if there was time to give her a blessing before she was life flighted and they said once they had her stable it should be fine. Then they decided they needed to life flight her to Primary Children's Hospital. They told me that her heart rate was very good but she was very sick. They had her on a machine to help her breath but one of her lungs had burst while they were trying to save her so they had to put in a chest tube. They assured us her lung would heal on its own. They kept saying all the things she was doing great with but would end with “Your baby is very sick”. It was so hard to hear. I just kept thinking to myself, “this is not happening!”

The nurse helped me call my mom and she asked right away what was wrong. I started crying and told her that the baby was not doing well. She was not breathing on her own and we needed Dad to come down and help us give her a blessing. She said she would send him right away and hung up the phone. We continued to wait. All I could do is stare out the window and pray to my Heavenly Father to please help my baby! It just didn't feel real. An hour ago she was perfectly healthy. I kept trying to tell myself it was just a short set back and she would pull out of it but I could not make myself believe it. I didn't know what to believe. Dad came and Dusty's parents came and we waited. I could not tell if it was a good sign that it was taking them so long to get her ready for life flight or a bad sign. They kept telling me that she was almost ready and that I could see her and we could give her a blessing before she left.

While we waited I just had this feeling that we needed to name her before she left on her flight. Dusty and I usually have a rule that we hold our babies and decide together what name feels right. But this time it felt different. I wondered how to get Dusty's attention from across the room. I wanted to tell him what I was thinking without having to say it in front of everyone in the room.

While we waited for our baby Dusty asked me if I wanted a blessing to which I agreed. He and my Dad gave me a beautiful blessing, letting me know that whatever happened it was the Lord's plan and that I could fulfill my part in that plan. Even though I knew they never said my baby would live I felt much stronger when they were finished. I told Dusty that I felt we needed to give her a name before she left us and he agreed. We quickly discussed the two that we had decided on and to my delight he agreed that she should be called Colette Eliza. I knew it fit, even without holding her little body in my arms.

Shortly after that they wheeled my beautiful baby in. She was attached to so many machines and had so many tubes that I could barely see her face but she was so beautiful and sleeping peacefully. She was so bright she seemed to glow. They opened the side of her little box and I was able to stoke her tiny foot for just a minute while they explained to me that among other things they had found fluid around her heart that they had to drain and that they were having a hard time keeping the fluid out of her lungs and she had already been through many set backs. They said she was a fighter and that she had been awake and kicking through it instead of giving up and laying there and that was a good sign. They had finally sedated her so that she would not add more injury to herself while they worked on her. But they had her stable and while it would take her time to recover everyone was very hopeful. She was a surviver. My father and Dusty gave her a beautiful blessing, one with their fingers on her head and one with their fingers on her little feet. They blessed her to have the strength to do all the things that little babies do. It was a beautiful blessing and brought peace to my heart but once again I was very aware that she had not been blessed to recover and LIVE. And so they took my baby on her first helicopter ride. My heart broke as they took her but it never occurred to me that I would not see her again alive.

Dusty got ready to drive up the Primary Children's Hospital to be with her, and knowing how sensitive my wonderful husband is I knew that he could not do this by himself. I knew he would worry about me and worry about our Colette so I told him to take his Mother with him. It broke my heart that I could not go with him. It was just one more thing for me to hate about not being able to deliver normally. Dusty left and my Dad went home to watch the kids so my mom could come and be with me. As he left he turned to me and said ,“ I think it will all be okay”. I smiled at him and agreed... but I just had this nagging feeling that while it would be okay I was not sure if that would be in this life... or the next. Waiting alone in that room for my mom to get there seemed like an eternity. I was so worried about Colette but all I could do was lay there and worry. The nurses told me they knew how hard this was especially since there were no warning signs. Her ultrasounds were all good and she had been healthy.

Shortly after my mom got there a doctor from Primary Children's Hospital called. The shortness of it was that everything they had stabilized on Colette had been undone on the way up there. They needed to have permission to do several procedures that while they had lots of side effects they were almost at the point where she would not survive without them being done. He then explained there was no guarantee that she would survive after doing them either. I gave my consent and then explained that my husband was on his way to the hospital and should be there soon. After hanging up the phone I burst into tears and tried to explain what he had said. My mom held me and we both prayed that my baby would be okay. All I could do was wait. Wait and pray. And pray. And pray. And wait some more.

And then the phone rang again. It was the same doctor and as I answered the phone he said “Here is your husband”, and my heart sank. I knew then that something was very wrong. Dusty told me that the doctors felt that they had done all they could do at that point. While they could do a few more things to keep her body alive, they felt at that point that she was probably brain dead. And they were asking what we wanted them to do. I told Dusty that I wanted my baby back. I wanted to hold her. He told me that they could not do that because she would not survive the trip back to me. I told him that it didn't seem like she was going to survive staying there either. My heat was breaking. I knew we needed to let go, that she had fought a valiant fight, and that she was done, but I was not sure I could let go. While I wanted to yell at them to keep trying to fix my baby and to not give up, we both agreed that we needed to stop the fight and let her return home. So as I lay crying in my hospital bed, over an hour away being held by my mother, my wonderful husband held our beautiful Colette and gently rocked her as her spirit left this life and returned to our Heavenly Father. He called me again after she had passed and while he held her he expressed to me what a beautiful daughter I had and that she was so gentle and so strong, that she had fought to live and to be with us for five hours and was now home again in our Savior's arms. I told him again that I wanted her back. I wanted to be able to hold my baby even if the first time was after her spirit had gone home. He said he would do the best that he could do and I could tell by the nurses' expression around my bedside that they too would do the best the could to make this happen. Somehow this helped.

Dusty was so afraid that I would hate him for him being the one to tell me and the hospital that it was time to let her go. I don't know how he could think that. He is the love of my life, my strength, my everything and I am so grateful for him being able to be there when my baby needed a Father the most.

As I lay there with my Mom and Dad around my bed and watched the clock slip by different thought flittered through my head, each one making the tears start afresh.

What do I tell Aaron? He was so excited to have a baby and to have her sleep in his room.

How do I let go? How do you let go of something so small and precious?

What do I bury her in? I don't have anything to bury her in.

Where do we bury her?

How do I live without this piece of me?

How do I leave the hospital with no baby in the car seat?

What do I do now?

How do I fix this?

I remember praying so hard in my heart to Heavenly Father for help. I don't want to be bitter! I don't want to be angry! I don't want to question “why” or wish this on anyone else.

I knew by the strong spirit that I felt that what had happened with my darling Colette was what was meant to happen all along, and that she was so special and so brave and valiant that all she needed was a body and to be born in the covenant. But oh how it still hurt!

And the social workers started coming into my room. They worked frantically to figure out how to get my baby back to me. At the same time Dusty and his parents worked with social workers up at Primary Hospital to try to get my Colette back to me. I was bound and determined to hold my baby even if it was just her body after her spirit had left. She had been a part of me for 9 months, and I was not ready to let go.

After working with the social workers they finally came to an agreement that the safest way to get her back to me and the way that would keep all the health officials happy and the laws unbroken was for us to request Anderson Mortuary to go and pick up our daughter. They agreed to do for the price of a cheapest casket which was about 250 dollars. I knew that we would need a casket anyway and since The Anderson's daughter was my good friend from my collage days I had no problem using Anderson Mortuary.

After Dusty got back from Primary Children's Hospital we decided that Aaron needed to be told and that the children needed to come see me to know that I was okay and that I needed desperately to see them! We decided that the best thing to do was to have Mom gently explain to Aaron that his sister had been born but had been very sick and had returned to Heavenly Father. Then she would bring them to the hospital to see me. Aaron seemed to take the news in little bits at a time. I know by the questions that he asks almost a week later that he is still slowly digesting the news but he is understanding and his faith is probably stronger than all of ours combined. I was so happy to see my children. It was like a bright light at the end of a tunnel of darkness. Bridgett was not only excited to see me but she climbed right up and snuggled up next to me in bed. To my surprise for the first time in over 8 months she didn't rub my belly and start having a conversation with the “baby” inside. It hit me then that while in words she didn't understand what was going on her spirit knew that the baby that had been there for almost a year before was no longer there. Again I was struck with how thin the veil must be for the one so young.

Right before our baby Colette was supposed to arrive back at our hospital Mom and Dad took the kids home and get them into bed where a neighbor watched them so Mom and Dad could come back and share our time with Colette. When she arrived she was beautiful. I can only imagine how much more beautiful she was while her spirit was still with us. She was so tiny compared to my other babies. She looked just like Aaron from her profile and just like bridgett around the nose and mouth. Her little hands were so tiny and so perfect. Her feet were perfect as well. So long and trim, and she was the only child so far that had my toes with the 2^nd toe longer than the big toe. I wanted to hold her forever. I wanted to pretend that she was just sleeping, that she would wake up and want to eat at any minute. These things are things that I still wish for, hope for, and will probably dream of for years to come.

There was a feeling of peace in our room that came in with our little baby Colette. As hard as all this was I can not deny that the Spirit of our Savior and our baby were both in that little room with us. I pray that I can always keep those feelings and that Spirit with me because I know that if I ever loose it this is one trial that I just won't be able to endure by myself.

I will always be so grateful for the wonderful help of volunteer workers who knew just how to help and what to do from their own past experiences. Melanie was one of those volunteer workers. She too had lost a baby boy, and now she spends her time helping other mothers who are going through the same thing. She brought a little box for us to keep - a box that we could put all our memories of Colette in so that we could go back and look at them to remember her anytime we wanted.

Melanie was also there to help me to bath and dress my baby. I wanted to help bath and dress my baby as much as I could but my C-section still kept me from being able to do the things I wanted to. Melanie gently undressed my baby and washed her right next to me so I could watch and help as much as I could. The many tubes that were still present in my daughters body were still such a shock to me against her pink little skin and I prayed that the trauma and pain she had endured in this life in her fight to stay with us had not been too great.

Melanie then let me hold her while she got her dressed. I picked the little outfit that I had thought we were going to take her home in. Now it would be her outfit for photos so we could remember one last time how beautiful she was. We also took molds of her hands and feet, and prints of her hands and feet as well. A lady from “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” came and took some wonderful photos of her with Dusty and I. After a whirlwind of “activities” everyone else drifted out of the room to leave Dusty and I to have time with Colette. I snuggled her against my chest in her little blanket that I had made for her before she was born. My body ached to nurture her as I would any of my newborns and again my heart broke knowing that I never could. I never wanted to let her go. I never wanted to put her down, but I was falling asleep while I sat holding her. I knew that it was time to physically let her go. Alec from Anderson Mortuary came at about 12:30am to take our baby back to the mortuary. I pleaded with him to take good care of my baby. It's hard to hand off one of your most prized possessions to someone you don't know. I tried as hard as I could to give my baby to him but I was just not strong enough to do it. My whole body and mind screamed out that it was I who should be taking care of her. That it was not fair that I had to give her to someone else. It was like my arms would just not let me give her to him. I finally gave her back to Dusty, and once again he had the hard job of handing over our baby to someone else because I could not do it.

After Colette left it was about 1:00am but time had really ceased to mean anything. Dusty and I were both exhausted and it had been the longest day and two nights we had ever experienced. I think we had both felt like we had aged about 10 years. I knew that Dusty was tired but I knew that the nurses were waiting now to take care of me, and I didn't want to be alone while they got me out of bed and started me on my road to physical recover. He stayed and helped me to stand and held me while the nurses did what they needed to do. I knew that he was so tired and I probably should have sent him home to get some sleep but I was so grateful to him for staying the extra 45 minutes to help me to get settled and make sure that I was well taken care of.

That night Dusty took home our little box that was now filled with wonderful things to help us remember our Colette. As much as I wanted it with me I was so worried that something would happen to it and I sent it home with him. It held her foot and hand prints, her molds, her hair bows, her bracelets, a snip of her hair (yes not only did she have hair but it was dark and curly in the back) and many other memories that we will cherish forever.

That night sleep did not really come. My blood pressure was extremely low and while they kept pumping fluids into me the catheter was still remaining strangely empty. Then there was still the whole mystery of what exactly it was that went wrong. Blood was drawn about once an hour and vitals were taken about every 20 minutes. By the time morning came I was so exhausted and ornery. It was all I could do to NOT take the next machine that beeped and throw it out the window.

The visitors started coming, the flowers, the cards, and the phone started ringing. Somehow the word had gotten out. It was nice to know that people cared, but the only visits I really looked forward to were from my husband, my parents and my children. Oh how I looked forward to seeing my Aaron and my Bridgett!

We decided Sunday night that the best thing for Aaron would be to go to school as usual. Mom said that she would talk to Aaron's teacher and let her know what was going on just in case anything came up. Before she even had a chance to talk to the teacher one of Aaron's friends ran up to him and asked him if his mommy had the baby yet. Aaron said “yes, but she died.”

“What?” his little friend asked.

“She couldn't breathe when she was born and she died”

“Oh” was all his little friend could think to say.

So little by little we began to know that Aaron did understand. It's sometimes hard to know what exactly is going on in his little head and how much he understands. Later that day he asked what his baby sister's name was. I guess we had not remembered to tell him that we had named her Colette but he seemed to approve. That day when he was coming to see me he passed by the nursery and said, “look at all those cute babies.” Grandma agreed they were cute and then Aaron said “but we didn't get one.” Once again my heart broke.

By Monday afternoon I was so tired and frazzled and everything felt so noisy! I dreaded it every time the phone rang and someone wanted to talk to me. I dreaded it every time someone wanted to come and see me. I was so exhausted mentally and physically and I just wanted it quiet! I know that everyone was just concerned and wanted to “do” something to help but I really needed some quiet healing time. I'm so grateful for the nurses who took charge, took my phone off the hook and told everyone who wanted to visit that no one was allowed in my room unless it was my husband or children. Every time Bridgett came in she took up her spot snuggling in next to me in the hospital bed and held my arm while she munched on my crackers and drank from my water.

Tuesday passed quietly too. Dusty sat in the chair by my bed and held my hand while I rested. In between catnaps and visits with our beautiful children, the planning began. With the help of family on both sides we were able to make a lot of decisions that just seemed right. At first I was worried that I had nothing to bury her in. Bridgett was a much bigger baby and by the time we blessed her her blessing dress was a 3-6 months. Way to big for my tiny Colette. Then my mom had the brilliant idea that we could put her in the beautiful dress that my Grandma had made for both Tamara and I to be blessed in. Even Tamara's first daughter Michaela had been blessed in it. I had never been able to bless Bridgett in it because she was just to big but I knew that it would fit Colette perfectly. I told mom that I wanted a nice white fluffy blanket to bury her in – not the shawl type blanket that we used when we were blessed. I wanted her to be snuggled.

Then came the question of where to bury her. Dusty and I had always felt that once our children got married they would be taken care of by being buried next to their spouse. The only time we wanted any of our children to be buried by us would be if we lost a child. And here we were with a cemetery where you can only buy plots when they are immediately needed. Even if there were plots available we didn't have the money to buy three plots together. Thanks to Dusty's beautiful family options became available. Between his mom's side and his dad's side there were 16 plots that we had no idea they owned. These plots were offered to us with the option of using any one of them we wanted. Since Colette was an infant we also had the option of placing her between two plots. I didn't want to decide where to put her until I could see where the plots were, but we both felt comfortable with the idea of placing her next to where her Great-Grandpa Chadwick is buried and Great-Grandma Chadwick's plot. Even before we had told anyone that we were going to do this Grandma Chadwick offered the space to us. So except for seeing it, it was pretty much decided.

Wednesday I was given the okay to come home. I was nervous to leave my little hospital room. For several days it had seemed like a safe haven from the world where I could deal with my grief a little at a time. The ride home from the hospital was much harder then I thought it would be. I cried the whole way home telling Dusty I felt like we had left something behind at the hospital. This was not how it was supposed to end! There was supposed to be a tiny baby bundled in the car seat in the back of the car. This was supposed to be a happy day. But that is not how it was. The doctor had given me a sleeping pill to help me sleep at night but nothing seemed to really do much good. I laid in bed that night thinking how I wanted to give my baby something to be buried with that was from me. When my sister and I turned 16 our mom gave us each a gift that was special to her for our birthday. I had always known I wanted to do the same for my own daughters. Knowing that I would never be able to celebrate Colette's birthday with her I wanted to give her something now. But what? At 4:00am Dusty woke up to me rummaging around in my closet. I think he thought I had lost my mind but he sat next to me on the bed while I quietly went through my jewelry box. I don't have much jewelry and somehow nothing seemed right. I paused as I held up my class ring from high school. That didn't feel right. I did have a ring that I was given when I was young. It was real and had a real gem in it but it was a sapphire and I thought perhaps I should save that one for my beautiful Bridgett since we share the same birthstone. And then I found it. In the bottom of my box in a zip lock bag, a tiny round pearl. When Dusty and I had gone to visit San Francisco a few years ago Dusty had bought me an oyster. It was from a little tourist shop - the kind where you get to pick your oyster and whatever pearl was inside is what you got. To my delight the oyster I picked had produced a perfectly round beautifully colored pearl. It was my only real pearl and I had always meant to have it made into a necklace but had never quite gotten to it. Here is what I would give to my baby, a gift especially from mother to daughter. I hoped that I could get it made into a bracelet before the funeral but I figured that was probably far fetched, so maybe I could find a special pouch to put it in.

When my Visiting Teachers found out what I wanted to do they took the pearl and asked a lady in our ward, who works for a jewelry store, what she thought could be done. She took the pearl to work and told the Goldsmith our story. He not only took the pearl and created a tiny bracelet for my daughter, but he also took the time to create a matching one for me. All of this he did without charging us a thing. Not only was I able to give her the gift that I really wanted to, but I also have a special gift to tie me to my daughter. When Bridgett turns twelve Dusty and I will have a matching one made for her. A physical symbol of the Eternal ties of our family.

On Thursday we meet with Anderson Mortuary. Picking out a casket for my beautiful baby was not something that I ever could have dreamed I would do. And I didn't want to do it. It felt like I was loosing control of my life. My whole body ached to have my baby back and there was nothing in my power that I could do to fix it. There were times it didn't seem real and there were times I could barely stand the pain. After the mortuary we did a quick drive into the cemetery for Dusty to show me where Grandpa Chadwick was and to see if it would be a good spot for Colette. It was a beautiful spot on the hill and Dusty and I both felt at peace and that this was a good place for her. After that we met with the Bishop who helped us to get her service planned. I knew that Dusty's girl cousins had sung at the last few family funerals so I thought it would be nice to have them sing Families Can Be Together Forever. Our Home teacher, Ryan Taylor, is also an incredible singer and song writer and we asked him to perform as well. Other than that we only asked the Bishop and the Stake President to say a few words. As Dad was in the Stake Presidency we knew that the Stake Presidency would be at the funeral to support him and his family. We also picked Casket Bearers. Dusty, his brother Kyle, his Dad and my Dad. Later that week we decided that Aaron would also enjoy the experience of being one as well. Dusty also came up with the idea of listing My Grandpa Wendel and his Grandpa Chadwick who had both passed away in the years before as honorary Casket Bearers. As We knew that they were in the spirit world welcoming our little Colette back to her place on the other side with them.

The days passed and I can't deny how so many little things fell into place to get everything ready for her funeral. It was like little signs from Heavenly Father that while He had taken my baby back home to Him, He was trying to let me know that as hard as this was, it was what was meant to be. No one had made a mistake. There was nothing that could have been done to prevent this. Colette was one of the noble few who simply needed a body to finish her journey on this earth.

Saturday we went to order the flowers. Mom and I had been looking online at flower websites to see if there was anything we liked. First we started looking at the Sympathy arrangements, only to realize that all of these arrangements were for full size caskets and for older people. Suddenly I had the idea to look in the baby section. I knew that I already wanted something with white daisys. Daisy's seemed to be her flower. And I knew that I wanted to order some light pink gerber daisys for Aaron and Bridgett to place on her little coffin. And there in the baby section I found it, the perfect arrangement. White daisys little pink roses and lots of greenery. Daisys, and light pink gerber daisys will forever make me think of my baby Colette.

Sunday passed slowly. It was as if I was reliving the day as it had happened the week before. It was all I could do to not watch the clock and remember exactly what had been happening at that time one long week before.

The day of her funeral dawned bright and sunny. I cried through my shower and prayed to Heavenly Father that I could feel His peace and His spirit on this day or I knew I would never make it. Before we left for the mortuary I asked Dusty to pray with me. I can't even remember what he said but I know that I would not have been able to make it through this day and this trial without his love and his support.

Aaron wanted to come to the mortuary with us. He wanted to watch us dress his baby sister and he wanted to hold her. All week he had been asking when he could hold her. It broke my heart every time he said it. It didn't seem fair that at age five he had to deal with losing a baby sister. But he was dealing with it wonderfully.

Seeing my baby again was both wonderful and heart wrenching. Oh how I had missed her over the last few days, but oh how different she looked. Her body while still beautiful was also a reminder that her beautiful spirit was no longer with us, and that it was her spirit that had given life and light to her body.

Dressing my baby Colette to be buried is the hardest thing that I have ever done. But I did it and I am so glad that I as her Mommy was the one who did it for her. She was beautiful in her little white tights. She wore the same shoes that her big sister Bridgett had been blessed in and the same dress that my sister, my niece, and I had all been blessed in. On her wrist was her little pearl bracelet. In her hair a white headband with a tiny blue bow to match the blue on her dress. We wrapped her gently in the soft white blanket that her Nannie had found, and at last her brother Aaron was able to finally hold her. He commented on how tiny her little hands were and how tight her eyes were shut. After about 5 minutes he decided he was done, and then it was my turn. I held my baby for the last time, her cold little body reminding me of how much I wished that things had been different. But they weren't. And as I sat there holding her I could feel so strongly the spirit of peace. A sweet gift from my Heavenly Father at a time when I needed it most. Then it was time. Dusty gently took her from me and placed her in her tiny white coffin. Together we tucked her blanket gently around her and Aaron placed at her feet a small teddy bear with a pink bow. A little something for Colette from Bridgett and Aaron. I stoked her cheek one last time and said a final goodbye to my baby. I could not bring myself to kiss her one last time. Something I hope she will forgive me for. We had decided to seal the casket at the Mortuary. We could have done an open casket at the church but I didn't think I was strong enough to do it. I also knew that seeing a casket that small was enough to bring anyone to tears even without seeing the beautiful baby that it held inside.

On the way to the church Aaron said “I wish baby Colette was not dead. I wish she was still alive” I cried and told him that I did too, but that I thought Heavenly Father needed her more with him now then we did. Her funeral was beautiful, and while I cried several tears I am so grateful for the strong spirit of peace that I was able to feel through the whole thing. I know I never would have been able to make it without that feeling of peace. Our Stake President closed the service with some words that I will never forget. He said that those infants and children who die before the age of 8 are very special and nobel spirits of our Heavenly Father. That they are too pure and too lovely to be subject to the hardships and trials of this world. That we know without a doubt that they are heirs to the celestial kingdom, and that one day after the resurrection they will be ours again to raise as part of our Eternal Family. It is to these words that my heart clings. Knowing that one day, this body that aches to mother my child Colette, will have that opportunity brings more joy then I can express. It shines through the pain and the heartache like the sun peaking through the stormy clouds. Yes my heart still aches, my soul still greaves, and my tears still flow as I mourn for my loss but I know that with help from my Father in Heaven and my family I can survive this. There is hope, and she is mine Eternally.

During her memorial service I also was blessed with another insight. The photo that we picked out for the front of the program was the photo of Jesus sitting down and on his lap he held a little girl. While she is older than Colette by a few years as I looked at this photo the Spirit filled my being with the knowledge that my older brother, my Savior who I LOVE with all my heart, has my baby. That he loves her as much... no more than I do, for His love is perfect, and mine has not yet reached that perfection. And that he has her cradled in his arms and will forever watch her and protect her until I can be united with her again. This brother whom I trust with everything I hold dear, I now trust with my baby.

After the funeral Daddy, Grandpa Roy, Grandpa Ken, Uncle Kyle and Aaron took their place by her casket and gently rolled Colette out the door. Aaron was so proud to be able to help and take care of his sister.

There are days when I feel like Aaron who when told “NO” begins every sentence with “I WISH”.

“I wish...” that that bum needed to be changed.

“I wish....” that that little body needed to be held.

“I wish....” that that little mouth would cry and want to nurse.

And some days I feel like Bridgett who says “Wait! Wait!” Which is about all she can say when something has been snatched from her.

And so a new day begins. I am now a mother of three beautiful babies. Two that make me smile every day, and one that I miss desperately. But they are all mine. I long for the day that we can all be together again. But in the mean time... some days the Spirit is strong and it feels like we just might make it, and other days the tears flow. It feels like in the past two weeks Dusty and I have lived several lifetimes. We feel older. The small things in life that used to seem so big now seem so trivial. It's hard not to wish we could go back to happier times like celebrating Christmas as a family with Colette kicking happily from inside my tummy. Everyday I pray to have the strength to endure this test gracefully. To learn what I need to learn and to grow strong enough to be able to endure it. I want desperately to pass this test, to heal, to not be angry and bitter. To love again. To mother again. To feel whole again. To be happy again.