How Losing my Baby Granddaughter Changed me Forever
By: Anne Peterson
Tags: Life Lessons, Weekly Prompts, Relationships, Death, Love

Hearing a baby is terminal changes you.

Fear wraps it’s tentacles around you and squeezes tight.

My daughter and I were to watch my grandchildren when the baby came. Everything else was a big question mark.

What I didn’t know was that Nathan and Heather were told to prepare for their daughter’s funeral as they went to the hospital to have her.

Heather had taken months to knit the most beautiful little dress for this baby, number four. They knew that Trisomy 18 would some day take their child, but while they had her, they would love this little one they were given. And having that special dress was one way Heather showed her love.

The day is here

How can you fall asleep when you know at any moment you are going to be a Grandma again? Knowing the kids would be getting up early was enough to convince my body to get some sleep. And my body agreed.

And then we got a call from Nathan,

“Mom, would you bring the kids to meet their sister?”

That’s all he said. And sometimes fear prevents you from asking more questions. So all I had to do was the next thing. And that was to get the kids up and to the hospital, even though it was 5:30 am that cold January morning.

Fear had me in his grip. What would we find when we got there?

Because this was not a regular birth, we had the opportunity to visit early. This baby was here, but we didn’t know how long she was staying.

The kids were buckled in and the ten minute drive was not enough to calm my jittery nerves. Tears slid down my face and I was thankful for the dark that hid them. I wiped them away, trying to quiet my worried mind.

God, help me, this is hard.

The first time I saw her

Having been through this scenario a few times, I knew the drill. I would bring the siblings to the door and let them go in. Then after the family had time alone together, it would be my turn. That gave me more time to wait. And more time to pray.

After a while, my eldest grandson, Jude came out to tell me it was my turn. I think I smiled and then walked over to the room. The kids were now with their other Grandma and Grandpa and it was my turn. Time to meet this little one I had prayed for, for months.

And there she was. Small and beautiful. They placed her in my shaking arms and I was overcome. How can you love someone so small in such an overpowering way? I had already made room for her in my heart.

Trisomy 18

It was a term I had heard for the first time that day Heather came back from her OB appointment. I didn’t like those words. They meant hurt and loss. They meant a shortened life.

I’d read about Trisomy 18 and then I’d stop. It was too much. It never had a happy ending. It just ended.

Our granddaughter defied what the books said. She did make it to the day of her birth. She learned things she wasn’t supposed to learn. Like how to swallow. How to laugh. And that sweet baby smiled all the time. How could she not, with so many faces smiling at her. At times, her siblings would gently put their forehead to hers and just smile.

Olivia Jane

I remember asking her brother, Charlie, one day, “Why did you all choose the name Olivia? Was it from the book of the little pig named Olivia?”

His look told me he was a bit insulted.

“No,” he explained gently. “We named her that because it has the word live in it. O- liv- i-a. We want her to live.”

And I felt a prick in my heart. I wanted her to live too. We all did.

It’s hard to have joy when fear keeps trying to come in to steal it.

Every time I held Livie, I was afraid I wasn’t doing it right. From the first time I held her, fear was right there. Always there.

Milestones

There were things to celebrate. The first time she smiled. The first time she laughed. The time she made raspberry sounds with Daddy. The time she moved her head to the music.

“She’s head-dancing,” the kids told me.

I remember one time Livie’s two-year-old sister, Ruthie brought her doll stroller into the room, running over toes. Ruthie was certain mom would let her give Livie a ride. But Ruthie was wrong. We were the ones who were in for a ride. A ride of ups and downs.

There were a lot of celebrations. At first, every week Livie was here. Then every month. And then Livie turned one. This little one who wasn’t supposed to make it to the day of her birth.

There was a special party dress. A special cake her momma made.

Photo Courtesy of Jessica Peterson

And we all stood there watching this little miracle. It was amazing.

But there were a lot of scares too. Some I knew about. Some they lived through quietly.

One day my son called to say, “Would you like to come and see Livie today?”

“Would you like me to come a little later,” I asked.

“I think you better come now,” he said gently.

And so we took the 15 minute ride over as fear crowded into the car as well.

But when we got there, she was doing much better. And I could breathe again.

Our little miracle was thriving and growing. Yes, there were limitations. She would never be able to talk. She would not walk. But she was here. And we could still love her.

14 months

Livie had been sick and then she got better. Thousands knew her story, so thousands prayed for our little miracle.

And then came the call. You know about the call, don’t you? It’s the call that interrupts our lives.

“Mom, I have some very sad news. Livie…”

I froze. The day I had been dreading had come. Livie had been doing fine after being sick. But a second cold was too much for her weakened body.

We went over and I they put her in my arms. Tears slid down my face. My heart was broken. As a Grandma I was grieving, yes. But I was also hurting for the whole family.

God gave me the strength to go through the next few days. That’s the only explanation I have.

And when we stood at her gravesite and released white balloons against the blue March sky, we thanked God for Livie. And all she taught us. And I remembered how that sky reminded me of Livie’s blue eyes. Eyes you could get lost in.

Photo courtesy Jessica Peterson

Two Things I learned

I think we learn from everyone who comes into our lives. This is what my sweet Granddaugher taught me.

We need to stay in the moment.

That’s all any of us really have isn’t it? If we don’t learn to enjoy each moment, too much is lost.

It’s possible to love someone you only have for a short time.

Only God knows how long we’ll be here. We need to appreciate each other as if we only had a short time with them.

I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. My mother, my father, my sister, two brothers, two miscarriages.

But losing Livie, my beautiful little granddaughter changed me forever.